


The Two of Us Against the World Part 1: The Dynamic Duo

by LacieRiverPanda27



Series: The Two of Us Against the World [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, Childhood, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Early Life of John Watson, Early Life of Sherlock Holmes, Family Feels, Feel Free to give Suggestions, Freak, Gen, Kid Sherlock, Kidlock, Mentions of other characters from Sherlock, Name Calling, Orginial Characters, Separation Anxiety, Sibling Rivalry, pet death, sherlock bbc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 56
Words: 75,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacieRiverPanda27/pseuds/LacieRiverPanda27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Sherlock and John had meet when they were young? This is the story of Sherlock and John as they grow and face the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Just to get this out of the way, I am American; I don't know much about the School systems in England so sorry if it's a bit confusing. Sherlock is 7 years old and is in 2'nd grade. John is the same age and in the same grade. Mycroft is 10 years older than Sherlock so he is 17, and in 11th grade (Or his Junior year in High School). Harry is 16 and in 10th grade.  
> If you have any questions would like me to explain anything to you please feel free to ask.

Sherlock stared out the car window and watched the world fly by as his brother sat across from him with a smug smile.

"Sherlock, at least TRY and make this one work. This is the fourth school we've tried, if you get asked to leave this one I'll have to buy you a tutor and home school you."  
Sherlock just rolled his eyes, it wasn't his fault all the other kids were idiots, or if the teacher was cheating on her husband with the principal. Sherlock just hoped the kids at this school left him alone, under no circumstances did Sherlock want to be home schooled. The house was too quiet, but at the same time too loud. All the little noises, the stairs creaking, the air in the venting system, and the quietness that reminded him that his dog, Einstein, was no longer alive, all seemed to be shouting at him. Plus it would give Mycroft even more chances to annoy him.

The first school they went to was Mycroft's school, Sherlock envied him. He would do anything to be able to go to a school where they ACTUALLY learned important stuff, rather than learning how to spell words he already knew. But his mother felt that Sherlock needed to 'socialize' with his peers first. So here he was, standing in front of his new school holding his mother's hand praying that the other kids would leave him alone.

They walked down the halls till they came to the classroom with a blue door. "Here we are," Mrs. Holmes said, she bent down to look her son straight in the eye while she fixed his shirt. "Now remember Sherlock, be nice to the other kids, be respectful to your teacher and please, try to keep your deductions to yourself."

"Yes Mummy."

Mrs. Holmes knocked on the door which was opened by a middle aged woman. "Yes, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Mrs. Holmes and this is my son Sherlock, I was told this is his new classroom."

The woman looked down to her clipboard and scanned through all the names on it. "Ah yes! I was told we had a newcomer! Please to meet you! Why don't you come on in and meet your new classmates!"  
The woman was plump, but not overweight; she had ginger hair which was tied up into a small bun. She was short which gave her a friendly appearance, but she had a stare that cold chill you to your bones.

As usual, all the other kids were busy playing and talking, too busy to notice the new comer. As the school bell rang and few more kids came into the room, but besides them everyone else was already playing and making new friends.

Sherlock scanned over the room; he walked over and put his bag down next to a chair in the back of the classroom. He sat in the chair and pulled out his notebook and began writing in it. While most kids would doodle in their notebooks Sherlock would write down his deductions and observations. Sherlock had learned in Kindergarten about his ability to deduce people.

Although he could tell things like if someone was having an affair or if you had eaten today or not, his older brother Mycroft was much better at it than him. His brother could tell if he had done his homework or not, he could tell whether or not a kid at school were poking fun at him or not, and Sherlock hated him for this. Not because his brother was better at deducing than him, but because he would use it for his own advantage.

As Sherlock grew older he never realized how much trouble his deductions really got him into. His mother had always encouraged him about it and would sometimes go as far to test him. It wasn't until one night at dinner Sherlock asked his father if 'his lady friend' was coming over after bedtime that he saw the consequences his deductions caused. His parents were divorced soon after that and him, his mother and Mycroft moved to London.

After about the second school Sherlock got kicked out of, his mother gave him a notebook for him to write down his deductions in.

"Hey! I'm Sally!"

Sherlock looked up at the girl in front of him. She had dark skin, brown curly hair and brown eyes, she wore a pink dress covered with flowers.

"Hello, I'm Sherlock." Sherlock answered back, he quickly turned back to his notebook and began to write down everything he noticed about the girl.

Ate cereal and drink Orange juice this morning for breakfast, is right handed, has made a few friends, has trouble tying her shoes sometimes-

"What are you writing?" Sally asked as he tried to get a peek at the notebook. Sherlock nearly cringed when she asked, he sighed and accepted the fact that he would probably never made many friends anyways.

"My observations."

"Of what?"

"You."

Sally gave a puzzled look then snatched up the notebook. "Hey!" Sherlock yelled as he tried to take the book back, but Sally held it out of reach. As Sally read the notebook she became angry, "I can too tie my shoes!"

"I never said you couldn't, I just said you have trouble sometimes-"

"Lier!"

"No I'm not!"

"You are too!"

"No! You're just too stupid to admit you have trouble sometimes!"

"I'm telling! Mrs. Bray! Sherlock said I'm stupid!" Sally yelled from across the room, all the kids stopped and turned to stare at Sally as she pointed towards Sherlock.

"Alright, what happened you two!" Mrs. Bray said as she walked over to the two. "Sherlock called me stupid and said I don't know how to tie my own shoes!"

"No! I said you have trouble sometimes tying your shoes sometimes and that you're too stupid to admit it!"

"Sherlock, there shall be no name calling in my classroom! Do you understand?"

"Yes Mrs. Bray..."

"Good, now Sally, you go sit over there by Peterson Anderson, and Sherlock you say you're sorry to Sally, alright?"

Sherlock glared at Sally and gave an annoyed sigh. "Sorry Sally, but give me back my book!"

Sally rolled her eyes and threw the book back at Sherlock. The book hit Sherlock, and then fell on the ground. As Sherlock picked it up he looked to see his other class mates snickering from their seats.

At recess, Sherlock sat alone on the swings, although, to say he 'sat' would be a lie. Sherlock was lying on the swings with his stomach while he looked down at the ground where he put his notebook. He was reading over the notes he had written about his first day at the last school and comparing them to this morning, when a boy came over and sat in the swing next to him.

"What are you reading?"

"My notebook."

"What do you keep notes of?"

"Everything."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Are they important?"

Sherlock looked over to the boy next to him; he had blue eyes and sandy blonde hair. He was a few inches shorter than Sherlock and had a brace around his leg. "Why do you want to know?"

"Umm...I don't know..."

Sherlock returned to his notes and the boy began swinging. "I'm John by the way, John Watson."

John turned to the boy next to him when he didn't answer back. "Well...What's your name?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

Opened his mouth to speak again but stopped when Sherlock got up and took a pencil from behind his ear and began writing in his book. Sherlock stopped writing for a moment, looked at John, and then continued writing. "How did you get it?"

"Get what?"

"That brace around your leg, you weren't born with leg problems so you got it quite recently, so how did you get it?"

"I was in car crash a week ago...sorry but, how did you know I didn't have leg problems?"

Sherlock stared at John, John stared back. Sherlock was batting around inside his head whether or not he should tell John. John seemed like a nice person, which was the problem, nice people were always mean to Sherlock. With a sigh, Sherlock reluctantly explained it to John.

"Most children who are born with leg problems have a hard time getting their leg to function the way they think it should work. You seem to know how you leg already works so it's just a matter of getting your leg to do as you wish. If you were born with leg problems you should be use to a brace by now, but you're not, it feels different and new. Also, many child with braces are shy, because they are worried they will be judged, but you aren't, because you know once your leg heals the brace will come off."

John stared wide-eyed and jaw-dropped, "That-"

Here it comes... Sherlock though,

"Was amazing!"

"You really think so?"

"Yeah! It was brilliant!"


	2. Little and Broken, but Still Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Sherlock has his first friend he wonders what does one do with a friend?

It was after school and Sherlock, John and all the other kids were waiting for their parents to come pick them up. A black car with tinted windows pulled up. "That's my ride..." Sherlock said as he began to walk towards the car.

"Bye Sherlock! See you tomorrow!" John said as he waved to his new friend. Sherlock stopped in his tracks and turned to wave back at John, "Bye! Tomorrow then!"

As Sherlock climbed into the car he found it was the family driver, Scot Wilson, who was driving rather than his mother. Mrs. Holmes had a rather busy life, which is why she always tried to pick her children up and bring them home. But that only ever seemed to happen once every two weeks, if she was lucky.

"Where's mummy?" Sherlock asked as he buckled himself into the seat.

"She had an unexpected appointment come up, she sends her regards and says she will see you when she returns later on this evening."

More like later tonight Sherlock thought.

"She also wishes me to remind you that you are visiting your father this weekend."

Sherlock gave a very audible groan, this weekend he was going to experiment with a dead bird he found in the garden. He had to wait to do the experiment because the bird had to already be in the decomposing stage. A very small spot in him felt even sadder because he was considering asking John to join him. Well, at least that means Sherlock couldn't scare him off and he would have a friend for a little while longer.

In the Watson family car, Mrs. Penelope Watson had already picked up Harriet, John's older sister, and John and they were on their way home. "Did you have a nice day at school John?"

"Yeah! I even made a new friend! His name is Sherlock, and he can see things other people can't see-"

"Mum, can you pick me up some hairspray at the store?" Harry asked as she texted a friend on her phone.

"MUM! Harry interrupted me!" John yelled as he accused his sister.

"Not uh!"

Yeah uh!"

"Shut it John!"

"Now John, Harry, no fighting, remember what your doctor said John, nothing too exciting. It's not good for your leg-"

"Damn my leg!"

Both Mrs. Watson's and Harry's jaws dropped. "John Hamish Watson! What have told you about using those awful words!?"

John opened his mouth to defend himself, but Penelope beat him to it. "I don't care if your father using those words or not! You are not too use those words again! Am I understood?"

"Yes Ma'am..."

As John and Harry jumped out of the car and run inside the house, Penelope Watson shook her head. She would have to speak with her husband about using curses in front of his son. Yes, Harry and John were Mr. Watson's children, not her's. It made her sad to see them; she ever so wanted children of her own. But Clint had made it very clear that he didn't want children, not for a while, at least that's what Penelope hoped.

The first Mrs. Watson, Clara, had died soon after John's birth. Apparently, the poor girl was too fragile and weak to give birth and it was a miracle John had lived. Ever since Clara's death Clint had been cold and cruel to John, and even went as far as blaming him for his wife's death. It had taken a total of 5 years for Clint to get over his wife's death, and then he almost immediately married Penelope.

Harriet had adjusted to Penelope quite well, and one day, on Harry's birthday, Penelope took Harry out shopping, that was the first time Harry called her 'Mum'.

John, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He had only seen pictures of his mother and from them proclaimed her to be 'the most beautiful person who ever lived'. Once he meet Penelope he almost immediately took a disliking towards her, and it became even worse once he realized that this woman was here to stay. Ever since the car accident John and Penelope had grown closer, not as close as Penelope would like, but closer none the less.

John still had his moments when he wanted nothing to do with the woman, but every so often, John would let his guard down around her.

As Penelope got closer to the house she heard John yell,

Oh God...he's home already...

Sherlock sat on a stool in the kitchen as he waited for some water to boil he was using for an experiment. As he waited he was reading a couple books. Sherlock had never had friend before, so he had no idea what he was suppose to do with one. And when Sherlock didn't know something, there were only two opinions, research it, or ask Mycroft.

Sherlock had gone into the family library and had looked for any books he could find on 'friendship', he even went as far as to look up the definition in a dictionary.

friend·ship

ˈfrendˌSHip/

noun

noun: friendship

1.

the emotions or conduct of friends; the state of being :relationship, close relationship, attachment, mutual attachment, association, bond, tie, link, union.

As he looked around he even found a book called "Faithful John".

After about two hours of searching he had a general idea of what friendship was, but he still had no idea what he was suppose to do now that he had it. Only opinion left: Ask Mycroft.

So there Sherlock, reading "Faithful John" In his kitchen while waiting for Mycroft to come down. Mycroft at the moment was upstairs in his study doing homework. Sherlock had done his on the way home and was now starting to get board.

Finally, after waiting for what felt like hours, Mycroft came down looking for a snack. "MYYYYYYCROOOOOFT!" Sherlock yelled as soon as he heard the stairs creek when his brother put his foot down on the first step. Mycroft sighed, why did he always have to play babysitter? Why couldn't his mother hire someone?

Mycroft entered the kitchen with a sigh, "What is it Sherlock?"

"What do you do with a friend?"

"Why do you want to know? You don't have any friends!"

"Yes I do! His name is John!"

"Ha! That's rich! You've got an imaginary friend!"

"He's real you idiot!"

"Ha! You wish!"

"HE IS TOO REAL!"

"Just tell me why you want to know..."

"Cause, I wanted him to come over and...I didn't know what to do..."

"Play games, watch movies, talk about girls,tell secrets, talk about your interest, I don't know!" All the while Mycroft got a piece of chocolate cake and went back upstairs to his room.

Sherlock took in this information and began to try and plan for a...'playdate'...with John. But it would have wait for some time, cause right now he made an even bigger problem.

He had to plan for his 'visit' with his father.


	3. Our Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though Sherlock and John appear to happy, at home they must battle their own personal monsters.

Penelope ran into the house to find her husband home, drunk, and tower over John. John was lying on the floor with a red mark on his face. He was struggling to get back up.

"Get up you wimp!"

"Clint-"

"Stay out of this Penelope! He'll never learn to be a man if he can't even carry himself!"

"He's only a kid Clint-"

"I SAID STAY OUT OF THIS!"

So Penelope back away with tears in her eyes, she walked away to find Harry to make sure she hadn't already got beaten. When she did find Harry she found her hugging her knees while crying on the couch. "Oh dear...I'm so sorry Honey..." Penelope said as he sat down and hugged the scared girl. "He's only a kid mom...Just barely a baby..."

"I know dear..." She said as she kissed her daughter's head. "Come on...Why don't you come into the kitchen and help me make dinner." Harry nodded and walked with her mother's arm draped over her shoulders.

When Penelope and Harry heard Clint stomp upstairs into his room they rushed out to find John lying on the floor. His shirt was ripped and his trousers were starting to wear out. He had red marks all over his body, some of them ready to burst with blood. His hair was a complete mess and he had a black eye.

"Oh...John, please, let me help yo-"

John batted away Penelope's hand, "I don't want your help! If you wanted to help me you would have-" John stopped mid-sentence. He didn't trust his voice, he felt like his throat had just collapsed. He rose to his feet, and in a swaying motion walked up the stairs taking them one-by-one till he finally go to the top and went to his room and quietly shut his door.

Mrs. Watson covered her eyes as she felt her tears about to fall. She wanted this to stop, but she knew she could never stand up to Clint. She felt like this enter thing was her fault.

Maybe if I had been a better wife he wouldn't take his anger out on his own kids. Maybe if I just had the courage to call for help. Maybe if I-

She stopped herself knowing that 'Maybe If's' were not going to change anything. No matter what she did, even if she did leave, she would always feel like a slave to her husband. No, that man was certainly not her husband. That was the man who had destroyed her husband. That was not the man she had fall in love with, that was not the man who had taken her away on a beach vacation then proposed to her on their last night as they gazed up at the stars above the sea.

No, that man was gone, and replaced with this monster.

Sherlock sat on a stool in his room slouched over poking the dead bird with a pen completely bored out of his mind. The bird was still not yet at the decoying stage, he needed it to be at for his experiment. He already had figured out 10 different ways he could sneak out of his room and get into his brother's room without Mycroft noticing, but he really didn't feel like doing any of them right now.

Thanks to the news about having to visit his father Sherlock had gotten into one of his 'moods'. He got up and threw himself down onto his bed. He wondered what most kids did when they got home from school.

Do their homework...Did that,

Talk to their sibling...Did that,

Read books?...Did that,

Normally Sherlock would do an experiment, but his chemist set was being cleaned out at the moment. His violin lessons wasn't until Sunday...(I should probably tell father that my teacher will coming over sometime in morning...naaahh)

He walked up and looked out his window; the gardener was putting in some flowers in the garden, so he couldn't go there. And mother had said that today some men were coming by to put some type of new fertilizer on their grass so Sherlock wasn't allowing to play in the yard at the moment.

Then Sherlock remembered something.

Sherlock got up and ran out of his room, ran down the stairs and out the back door in the kitchen. He walked along the walk-way in their garden till he came in view of their gardener. Then he bolted across the yard, he was lucky they hadn't gotten to the back yard and were putting the fertilizer in the front yard. He ran to the edge of the yard and stopped when he came to where the forest met their yard. As quiet was possible, he walked into the forest until he was sure no-one was looking. He kept running until he came to giant tree in the middle of a clearing on the top of a hill. Near the top of the tree was a Treehouse, this was where Sherlock would hide when things would become too much for him and he wanted to escape.

His father had helped him build the treehouse when he was four years old. It was a secret spot that only he and father knew about. The treehouse had a rope ladder which led up to door on the bottom of the treehouse. Now the door could be locked from the inside by a latch, but Sherlock would never lock unless he was up inside of it and did not want to be disturbed.

Inside the treehouse were all of Sherlock's secrets, on one wall it was covered with his drawings. There were pictures of Pirates, one of his dog Einstein, one of his family, and one of him and boy. The boy had no name, but Sherlock loved this picture the best. Why? Because, all his other pictures where of things he had once but were taken away from him. Once when Mycroft saw him pretending to be a pirate and laughed at him, Sherlock promised himself that he would never play pirate again (But he played it many more times in his treehouse in secret). The picture of the boy was the one thing he had that no-one could take away from him, because he never had him to start with.

-2 years ago-

"Hey Sher, what are you doing up their all by yourself?"

"Mycroft made fun of me for being a pirate..." Sherlock yelled down from one of the windows of the treehouse. Tears were burning behind his eyes, threatening to fall.

"That wasn't very nice of him, how bout I talk to him later, K?"

"Alright...but I'm still not coming down!"

"Sherlock..."

"I don't wanna! Being a pirate is silly anyways..."

Elliot Holmes sighed and put his hands on his hips, "Now Sherlock, that's not true. Now you come down or else!"

"Or else what!?"

Elliot took out a plastic swore from his side, "Why don't you find out!?"

Sherlock smiled and soon came rushing out of the treehouse with his own sword and soon was fighting against him dad. "Avast ye scurvy dog! Now ye shall face the wrath of Pirate Captain Bones Holmes!"

"Arrr that be true, but first ye has to beat me!" Their sounds of their laughter and clashes filled the air as their swung their swords at each other. Neither one of them had a care in the world.

Elliot Holmes would later speak with his son Mycroft and make him apologize to Sherlock and then when their father was not looking they would stick their tongues out at each other. Then when their mother would catch them Mycroft would point his finger at Sherlock saying he did it first, then Sherlock would deduce the fact that Mycroft had been bring Chocolate Cake up to his room every night that past week cheating on his diet their mother had put him on.

And for one moment everything was perfect.


	4. Not Too Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wants to spend the night at Sherlock's house, but Sherlock wants to spend the night at John's house. Both are ashamed of their everyday life. Who will be the first to let the other in?

The next day at school Sherlock sat at what he decided would be his usual desk. As the other children came slowly pouring in, Sherlock began deducing them. He grabbed out his notebook and started scribbling down what he noticed about everyone.

"Hey Freak!"

Sherlock looked up to see a boy standing in front of him. Sherlock had seen him yesterday on the playground, but didn't care enough to get his name. As Sherlock looked over the boy's shoulder he saw Sally, a named Mike and another boy who Sherlock didn't see a point in remembering his name, all standing by a desk looking over watching the boy in front of Sherlock. They all had smirks on their faces and were snickering.

"Sally over there told me that you had some kind of gift, is that so?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "No, it's not a gift; anyone can do it really, if they weren't so stupid that is."

"Oh yeah? And what is 'gift'?"

"I can...deduce."

"de- what?"

"Deduce, I can...Know things about you by how you look, how talk, how you-"

"Just shut up and get on with it!"

Sherlock was dumbfounded for a moment, this boy...Wanted Sherlock to deduce him? Something like a small seed of hope slowly grew in Sherlock's chest. Maybe this boy would accept him; maybe he'd want to be his friend even! Sherlock glanced over the boy and tried to get every detail he could, he would do anything to impress them, show them they were wrong about them!

"Your mother dropped you off this morning; she fixed your shirt before she left. I can tell because first off, there is a lipstick stain on your cheek, and I highly doubt any of the girls in here are wearing any lipstick, let alone would actually want to kiss you. For breakfast this morning you had toast, there are still come crumbs of it still on your trousers. You also cheated yesterday in during math time, firstly I saw you peek over at Sally desk, secondly even if I hadn't seen that I could tell you had because when you came in you were nervous, I heard you asking Sally what answers she put down and then you'd take out the calculator and type it in to see if she was correct. You kept getting mad because you realized that you had gotten most of the questions wrong and-"

"You liar!" The boy shouted leaning forward as he slammed his hands on Sherlock's desk. "No I'm not! You clearly-"

The boy smacked Sherlock across the face, leaving a bright red hand-shaped mark on Sherlock's cheek. "HEY!" Everyone turned around to see that John Watson had just been dropped off. "You leave Sherlock alone! I'm telling Mr. Mattews you hit him!"

"Go ahead! You can't prove anything!"

"Carl Powers and John Watson, what is going on over here!?" Mr. Mattews, the classroom helper, heard a loud commotion coming from his classroom and hurried in to see what the fuss was about. When he came into the room he saw Carl Powers and John Watson fighting in front of Sherlock Holmes's desk.

"Mr. Mattews! Carl smacked Sherlock across the face! I saw it as I walked into the classroom!"

"Not'ah! John is lying! He hit Holmes! I told him to stop but he wouldn't listen!" Mr. Mattews looked over at Sherlock to see him holding his red cheek lightly, careful not to put too much pressure on it. "Sherlock, tell me what happened."

"Carl-" Sherlock stopped and looked up to see Carl glaring at him, just daring him to speak up. "Hit me..." he finished.

"NOT'AH! John threaten him to say that!"

"I did not! Look see! Carl's hand matching the mark on Sherlock's face!" John grabbed Carl's hand brought it up to Sherlock's face, the two matched perfectly. "See! Mine's too small!" Then John brought up his own smaller hand."

"Thank you John," Said Mr. Mattews, "I'll take it from here." Then Mr. Mattews grabbed Carl by the hand and led him out of the classroom. "We shall start once I return." And with that he left and took Carl out of the room.

Once they left, John turned to Sherlock. "Are you alright?"

Sherlock gave a small smile and nodded, still holding his cheek. "Let me see." John said, he pushed Sherlock's hand away and inspected the mark. "It doesn't look too bad. It looks like it's starting to swell; I think we should ask Mr. Mattews for some ice-"

Sherlock looked over to Sally and her group of friend still snickering. "No."

John shifted his eyes to lock with Sherlock, "What? Why not?"

"I fine, really."

John nodded, and took his seat next to Sherlock. "Alright, just be sure to tell someone if it starts to hurt."

Sherlock gave a small giggle, "Yes Doctor Watson!" John joined in the giggle, but they both soon quieted down when Mr. Mattews returned.

Sherlock and John sat on the swing set as they did the day before (Well, Sherlock was back to laying on his stomach while going over his observations).

"Hey Sherlock," John said as he watched the other kids playing on the play set or kicking a ball around. "Yes John?"

"We should plan a...play-date..."

Sherlock looked up, he wouldn't admit it, but he was think of asking John about the exact same thing. "Okay, so, whose house?"

"Well..." John began, "My sister is having her friend over after school today, so maybe I should go over your house."

Sherlock froze, than quickly sat up. "I don't know...My mom still isn't home, and my brother is really annoying..."

"What about your dad?"

Sherlock stared at John, should he tell him? They'd only known each other for about two days, wouldn't that be too soon? Then again, John did stand up for Sherlock this morning, maybe...

"My dad doesn't live with us..."

John's eyes went wide, "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

"It's okay, like you said, you didn't know."

Sherlock lay back down onto his stomach and went back to looking at his notebook. As John stared out at the other kids he began to think, maybe his dad would let Sherlock come over, and maybe his father wouldn't think he was such a mess up if he showed him his friend, maybe-

"I suppose it should be okay if you came over. My older brother should be home and bale to watch us. And...There's a possibility that my mom could be home. She was supposed to come home last night but she got caught up with some work, so she might be home right by now."

John gave a huge grin, "Okay! I'll give my mom a call! I can ask Mrs. Greggory if I can call her!"

Sherlock grinned at this, although he really didn't want John to meet his family. Although, it would be nice to have some fun before he has to go visit his father.

Maybe, it would be nice.


	5. The Holmes Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes over to the Holmes house, confusion and surprises are insured!

Phone calls were made and plans were decided, John would spend the night at Sherlock's house then go to school with him the next day to school. Penelope Watson stopped by the school to drop off John's things on her way to the store.

"Now be good for Mr. And Mrs. Holmes, I don't want to get a phone call asking for me to come pick you up earlier, got that young man?"

"Yes Ma'am."

Mrs. Watson nodded and bent down to kiss John on the top of his head. "Mooom!" John protested.

"So where's your friend, Sherlock was it?"

"It was his day to help clean up afterword, he should be out soon."

Sherlock came out a few moments later with his backpack on his back and notebook under his arm. "There he is!" John said as he raised his arm to point out Sherlock. Mrs. Watson looked to where John was pointing, a young boy about John's age but a little taller was coming out with his things.

"Hey Sherlock!" John said about to run over to his friend but only to by Mrs. Watson. "John, do remember about your leg! I don't want you hurting it more than it already is!"

John only rolled his eyes in response and waved his hand in the air to get Sherlock's attention. Sherlock saw his friend and his mother waiting for him and ran over.

Not John's biological mother, stressed, works as a nurse...Not in a loving marriage.

Opinion A: Tell him about deductions.

Reaction: Negative

Opinion B: Write it in notebook and do not speak to John about it.

React: Positive

"Hello Sherlock! I'm-"

"You're John's Step-mother, you married John's dad at more two years ago. You were on your way to the store but stopped only to drop John's clothes off. At the store you plan to buy Milk, bread, cheese, juice and I believe some bandages and other items."

"See! I told you he was brilliant!"

"How- how did you know all that stuff?"

"You don't look like John at all, but I thought maybe John just looked like his dad, but then I saw your wedding ring, it looker newer but there are a couple of marks on it, so you've haven't been married long, but long enough to put some marks on the ring. From that I knew you most certainly were not John's real mother. I figured you were only here to drop John's clothes off because it was on the way to the store, otherwise you would have dropped it off later. I knew you were on your way to the store and what items you wanted to get because your list is sticking out of your pocket."

John's face beamed with pride in a 'See-I-told-you!' kind of way. Mrs. Watson looked down to see her list was indeed sticking half-way out of her pocket.

"You're pretty bright you know that?"

Sherlock looked over to see a black car with tinted windows pull up. The driver got out of the car and walked over to where Sherlock was.

"Afternoon Mr. Holmes, regretfully Mrs. Holmes has not returned yet. She did inform me that she would be returning this evening and that we would be housing a guest for the night." With those last words he turned he sunglasses cover stare towards John.

"Alright, thank you Mr. Wilson. You ready John!?" Sherlock turned to his friend who had grabbed onto Mrs. Watson leg, nervous under Mr. Wilson stare. John stared back at Mr. Wilson and nodded frantically.

Mrs. Watson took John's school backpack and replaced it with the one from his house. "Now be good John, and remember if your leg starts to bother you, please call!"

"Yes mom!" John called out as he and Sherlock to climb into the car.

Penelope Watson put her hand to her heart that was the first time John had ever called her 'mom'.

John's jaw dropped and eyes nearly popped out of his sockets. "This is your house!?"

Sherlock simply looked up and nodded, "It's been in our family for generations, at least that's my mom told me." Now it was John's turn to only noded. He could have sworn he could fit three of his houses into Sherlock's house! Although you could tell the structure was old, the manor still seemed to have a shine about it.

The inside of the manor was just (Or perhaps more) beautiful as the outside. "Come on John, my room this way!" Sherlock led John up a flight of stairs and down the west hall and stopped in front of white door. Sherlock's was unlike most boys Sherlock's age, which was to be expected of him. Most boys Sherlock's had fairly cleaned rooms that would be cleaned by their mothers. Sherlock's room looked as though no-one had ever cleaned it. Ever.

As John and Sherlock climbed onto Sherlock's bed they kicked their shoes off. "Do you like, have servants and stuff?"

"A few, there's Scot Wilson, out driver. There's Lily Marbles, our cook and her helper, Dina. And our gardener Tobias Anderson."

"Oh...Umm...Sherlock, could um...Could show me where the loo is?"

Sherlock nodded and hopped off the bed with John in tow. "Right down there." He said as he pointed to a door not far away from Sherlock's door.

"Thanks!" John said and ran towards the door.

Sherlock decided that while John was using the loo he would grab them some snack. He opened the fridge to see what food they had. "Why hello Sherlock, and what brings you to my domain?" Said Mrs. Marbles who was putting some cleaning fluids away. "I was looking for some food for me and my friend."

"Friend!? Why Sherlock, why didn't you tell me you brought home a guest! Now I have to set the table for four. I'm guessing you'll want him to sit next to yo-"

"Why four?"

"Why four? Didn't you hear? Your mum returned home this afternoon she-"

"Mummy's back!?"

"Why yes, she got home-"

But before she could say another word Sherlock ran back up the stairs and back to his room. Inside his room he found John had already gotten back and was nervously looking around the room. "Oh! Sherlock! There you are! I got worry when I came back and-"

"Do you mind eating with my family?"

"Huh?"

"My family, do you mind eating them?"

"Well...yeah, I mean, don't you usual eat with your family?"

"Well...Sometimes, but usual it's just me and my brother Mycroft."

"Oh...Well, yeah, of course I wouldn't mind!"

"Sooooo...What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know..."

"We could watch a movie, eat a snack, play a game-"

"Is that a dead bird!?"

Well...It was nice having a friend this long...

"Ummm, yeah."

John looked at the dead bird and pocked it with his figure. "Why is it in your room? Was it a pet?"

Sherlock now join John by his side, he figure he had two choices, lie and continue being John's friend, or tell the truth and risk John wanting to leave. But the thought that John might still accept him even with his weird experiments was too tempering to deny. So with a sigh..."No, it was for an experiment. I found it in our gardens."

"What kind of experiment?"

"I was going to do different tests during the different stages of decay."

"Oh...why?"

"Well...Because...It was...interesting and-"

"Cool! What stuff are you doing to test on it? Are you going to test how water affects it? Cause if you need to there's a stream by my house and-"

"You want to help?"

John stopped and turned back to his friend, "Yeah, I think it's cool!

So Sherlock decided that maybe it was finally time to conduct his experiment. Sherlock and John had done four different types of liquid on the bird and were now putting it in his freezer and would check it in the morning.

"Hey Sherlock, I'll be right back, I need to go change my pants, I got some of that green stuff on them."

"Okay! I'll just get some snack out for us!"

As John went up stairs Sherlock went to the fridge to see what food they had. They had grapes, yogurt, some of those mini pieces of cheese, ham and stuff grown-ups put on tray for when guest come over, cake, strawberries-

Cake.

That could only mean one thing; Mycroft would be done soon... "Sherlock close the fridge! You're letting all the cold air out!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure all the air from your head will fill it back up!"

"What are you going anyways?"

"Getting food for me and John!"

"Ha! You mean your imagery friend! You surely believe in him don't you!"

"JOHN IS TOO REAL!"

"Prove it!"

"JOOOOOOOOHN!"

The small blonde boy came running down the stairs, "What!? What happened!? Sherlock are you alright!?"

"I am now!" Sherlock turned to see Mycroft with a face of utter disbelief. "Do you believe me now?"

John tilted his head in confusion. "Don't worry John I'll explain later!"


	6. Cross Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns to trust Sherlock, Sherlock learns the hard way that doing things he thought was boring is actually fun when you do them with a friend.

The two boys sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen eating pieces of watermelon. As they bit into and sucked the watermelon neither one said a word, for nothing was needed to be said. John was Sherlock's friend and Sherlock was John's friend. It didn't seem to matter how long they had been friends for, or how long they would be. What mattered now was the present, the here and now. And here and now John and Sherlock had a mixture of saliva and watermelon juice running down their chins and all over the counter.

After they finished eating Sherlock hopped off the stool he had sat on, wiped his face with the back of his chin and they rubbed his hand of on his pants. "We should probably cleanup..."

John slide of his stool and joined his friend on the ground. "Yeah, probably, do you guys have like a sponge or something?"

Sherlock looked around, "Look there! Above the sink!" John looked where Sherlock was pointing and saw he was pointing to a roll of paper towels hanging on a rack above the sink. "It's too high up! We'll never reach!"

"Maybe not apart, but together I bet if we could reach it!"

"But- my leg! I'm not strong enough!"

"I'll bend down and you can stand on my shoulders!"

John looked at his friend as he got down on the ground and waited for John. "I promise not to drop you!"

"Cross your heart?"

"Cross my heart!" Sherlock said as he drew an X with his finger over his heart. Sherlock crouched down and brought his hands up to his shoulders waiting for John to step up. John First put his good leg up and held onto the sink to keep balance. Sherlock reached up and held onto John's leg. Once Sherlock had a good grip on his ankle John brought up his leg with the brace and placed it comfortably on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock was careful with this leg and had held onto it lightly but was still had a firm grip on it.

"You ready?" Sherlock asked from the ground. "As I'll ever be." John said as he loosened his grip.

"Okay, on the count of three!1...2...3!" Sherlock slowly stood, giving John a chance to get balance as he stood. John went from holding onto the sink counter to holding onto a cabinet handle. "Okay John, now grab the paper towel!" John leaned over with one hand still gripping onto the handle on the cabinet and one hand reaching over and unrolling the paper towels. John reached over with the other hand and gripped onto the paper towel. With one hand tightening its grip the other hand began to pull the paper towel trying to tear it.

"It's not ripping!" John said as he started yanking at the paper towel. "John! Stay still! If you keep moving I can't-"

As Sherlock spoke John kept pulling and yanking until he pulled too far and sent him and Sherlock stumbling backwards. Sherlock could feel himself falling backwards so as he did he stumbled backwards until he came to the stool. So when John did fall he plopped down the stool only slightly dazed. Sherlock, on the other hand, fall down and hit his hand on the legs of the stool.

When John finally gathered his bearings he realized what happened and rushed down to his friend's side. "Sherlock!? Are you okay!?"

"John...Why are there two of you?"

"Oh my gosh! Sherlock! What happened? Who is this? What he doing here!?"

John looked up to see a teenage girl had entered the kitchen. As she spoke she rushed about the kitchen gripping a towel from a drew and filling it with ice from the freezer. "Mr. Holmes, are you alright?"

Sherlock finally came around to recognize who it was who entered the kitchen. "J- John this is Di- Dina. She's- She's our-"

"Shhh, it's alright Sherlock, c'mon let's get you lying down. You've got a pretty nasty bump on your head!"

John sat on the couch in the living room with Sherlock head on his head with the towel filled with ice sitting on his head. "I'm cold." Sherlock muttered as he curled into himself. "It's 'cause of the ice, do you have any blankets in a closet or something?"

Sherlock thought for a second, "I think we have fluffy blankets in the hall closet. Mrs. Marbles keeps them there for winter." John looked around and saw in the hallway between the living room and the kitchen there was a closet. John switched out his lap for a pillow lying on the couch. He got up and pulled out a fluffy navy blue blanket.

He unfolded the blanket and covered Sherlock with it. "Did you want anything else? The TV on? Something to eat? Something play with? A movie?"

Sherlock gave a small smile to his friend, "Maybe, we could watch a movie..."

"Sure! What movie? Where do you keep them?"

"Over there in the cabinet, you could pick one out if you like...My favorite is Pirates movies!"

"Oh! How Muppet Treasure Island!" John said as he took the video and lifted it above his head to show his friend on the couch. "I LOVE THAT ONE!" Sherlock said with a huge grin.

"I'VE GOT THE MADNESS!"

"I'VE GOT IT!"

Sherlock laid on the couch with his sandwiched in-between the pillow and the towel filled with ice. John sat on the other side of couch sitting on top of Sherlock's feet. Suddenly all the pirates and men and Muppets on the ship suddenly started shaking and wiggling and broke out into song singing about 'Cabin Fever'.

"This is my favorite part!" John said as he started wiggling along with the pirates.

"Mine too!" Sherlock said as he started slowly wiggling, but not hard enough to move the towel of ice.

"Sherlock my baby what happened!?"

Sherlock looked over in time to see his mother come rushing in and bring him into a tight embrace. "Mummy! You're squishing me!"

Mrs. Holmes let him go to get a better look at his head. "Oh Sherlock! That was a very stupid thing for you to do!"

"Y- You found out?" Sherlock said sheepishly.

"Dina told me. Oh John, I hope you didn't make your leg any worse! We can call your mother if you'd-"

"NO!" John and Sherlock said at the same time. "I mean, no, its okay. I'm fine and it would only worry her."

Mrs. Holmes nodded, "Alright, well I'll be upstairs. I have some unfinished work, so if you need anything ask Dina or Mrs. Marbles. Mr. Wilson wouldn't be here because I asked him to run be an errand.

"Yes Mummy!"

"Thank you Mrs. Holmes!"

The movie came to part where Captain Smollett (Kermit The Frog) and Benjamina Gunn (Miss Piggy) were tied by their feet hanging over the edge of cliff singing 'Love Led Us Here,' John had already fallen asleep and was laying his head resting against the armrest. Sherlock was still awake but his eyes kept fluttering and knew he would fall asleep soon.

He knew he must have been close to unconsciousness because he didn't notice Mycroft enter the room. Mycroft scoffed at the movie. "What?" Sherlock asked as he looked up at his brother.

"Love, it's a dangerous disadvantage found on the losing side."

"Not'ah!"

"See for yourself Sherlock! Look at them! Even in children movies they prove! Their hanging over a cliff about to die! Why? Because the fat pig had to open her mouth to save her 'love'!"

"Yeah, maybe now, but they win in the end! They beat the bad guys and-"

"And what?'Live Happily Ever After'? Sherlock that's a fantasy! No one 'Lives happily Ever After' in real life!"

"Yeah'huh!"

"Name one person!"

"..."

"Like I said-"

"That's only cause I'm younger and don't know many people!"

"Yeah but-"

"Granddad and Grandma! They've been married for over 50 years!"

Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Go to sleep Sherlock, you're too young to understand!"

Sherlock would have defended himself, but he had already given into unconsciousness.

When he awoke the air was filled with the smells of a freshly cooked chicken. He looked over at his friend, John was still asleep. Sherlock couldn't help but wish that John's life was better than his. Maybe John had a nice family; maybe he had siblings who played with him and had fun with him who didn't leave all the time. Maybe he had a dad who lived with him and played catch, took him out fishing or hunting or camping.

Maybe, hopefully, at least one of them was truly happy.


	7. At the Dinner Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's dinner time,

"John..."

Nothing.

"John?"

Silence.

"Jooohhhnnn!"

A groan.

"JOHN!"

'WAH!"

John jumped awake when Sherlock all but screamed his name in his ear. "About time! C'mon! Dinners ready!"

The 'Dinner Table' at the Holmes' manor looked more like a long buffet table simply set for a dinner. Mrs. Holmes sat at one of head of the table, Mycroft to her right and Sherlock to her left with John sitting next to Sherlock.

As usual, Mycroft came to the dinner table all 'poshed up' as John put it, while Sherlock and John were wearing T-shirts and shorts and had bed-head.

"So... John, tell me, what's Sherlock like in school?" Mrs. Holmes asked as Dina and Mrs. Marbles brought out the soup, the first course. Even though John didn't look at Sherlock, he could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"He's brilliant! He's the smartest kid in the class!" John said, he looked into the bowel to see as what he would later describe to his mother as 'Green sludge'.

"Oh? I can certainly understand why someone would want to be friends with Sherlock's for his high intelligence."

"High intell-"

"What mother means is that she can understand why you would to be friends with someone who is smarter than you." Sherlock put in. If any of the children had been looking, they would have seem Mummy Holmes turn a light shade of pink.

"Sherlock dear, really that was most-"

"If you think I'm friends with Sherlock just 'cause he got brains you couldn't be more wrong!"

Suddenly everyone, even Mycroft who honestly didn't care what this 'John said about his brother, snapped their heads up and looked at John like he was the greatest mystery in the world. "Sherlock is my best friend! He's fun to be around and has great ideas! He says what he thinks and doesn't care what people think about him! He's honest and his always careful when it comes to making sure I don't get hurt! I think he's the coolest kid EVER!"

With that said John closed his eyes and took a sip of his soup.

"Yes...Well...*clears throat*...I'm glad you feel that way about my son."

Their laughs could be heard as they giggled about how Mycroft's eyes nearly 'pop out of his skull' when John made his exclamation at dinner.

After dinner Sherlock decided to grab John and his stuff and move into the guest room.

The guest room had two beds, two dressers, two desk with a chair, and two armchairs in front of a fireplace. In looked much like a hotel room would, it even had a window with a view. John felt like he was going away on trip for a few days rather than staying the night at a friend's house. This made Sherlock worry at first, but all worries were cast aside when John said that it would be 'cool' cause it would be 'like it was just the two of them'. Sherlock found he liked this idea very much.

It was getting late and they had school in the morning, so Sherlock and John changed into their PJ's, said good night to each other and went to bed.

"What time?"

"..."

"Ok, I'll be here."

"..."

"No, No, It's fine! Aithley is out of house for a few days and Mycroft is away at Boarding School."

"..."

"Don't worry about anything! Everything will be fine!"

"..."

"Okay, see you then Love!"

"..."

*CLICK*

Sherlock was bewildered; 'Love' was what his father always called mummy. Maybe he was talking to mummy on the phone? No, he told the person on the phone that mummy was going away for a few days, so it couldn't be her. Maybe it was Grandma or Grandpa? No, Mummy was WITH Grandma, and Grandpa was away with his friends. Papa and Uncle Lawrence still weren't talking, and Aunty Imogene was away in Paris with Aunty Quinn, Grandma, and Mummy meeting up with mémé. So who could Papa be talking to?

*Knock Knock Knock*

"Come in!"

Sherlock slowly entered into his father's study, afraid that his father might have realized Sherlock overheard his talking to someone. Sherlock's mind drew a blank, than he remembered the whole reason he came here in the first place.

"Papa...I umm...Broke...Mummy's...vase..." Sherlock said as he looked down at the floor. "Oh Sherlock! No need to worry! We'll have it fixed up before Mummy gets home!" Elliot said as he picked up Sherlock and carried him downstairs to go see about fixing the vase.

Sherlock laid his head down on his father's shoulder, for some reason he had a feeling this would be the last time he would get to be held by his father.

~Later that evening~

Sherlock was laying in bed, his father's conversation on the phone earlier still buzzed about in his head. Something was wrong, and Sherlock felt like it was his job to find out what it was! As he lay there in bed thinking of what he should do, he heard a car pull up in the driveway. He ran to his window and saw a woman come out of the car. She had short blonde hair and was dressed up formally.

Sherlock watched as the woman walked from her car to the front door. Then, the strangest thing happened; the woman had a key to the house! Who was she and what was she doing here?

Sherlock quietly went from the window to his door. He opened his door and stuck his head out the door. He watched as his father escorted the woman towards his father's room.

Then Sherlock got the shock of his life when he saw his father kiss the other woman!

~A few nights later~

The woman had come to the Holmes Manor every night so far, and Sherlock was no closer to finding out who she was. Every night for the past few days it seemed to be the same. Every night at around 1 a.m. a car would pull up in and the woman would come out. She would come inside with the key she had and Sherlock's father would greet her and they would retreat to his father's room.

Elliot Holmes never spoke about or even mentioned if anyone had come in the night to Sherlock the next morning. Which puzzled Sherlock to no end, his father always seemed to try and keep Sherlock up with whatever was going on around the house.

Tonight Aithley Holmes came home from her trip to Paris. She insisted she have at least one dinner with her family before she became busy with work. Mycroft was still away in school and would not be coming home until Christmas break. So tonight it was only Aithley, Elliot and Sherlock.

"How was your trip dear?" Elliot asked as he cut into his piece of lamb. "Just fine, your sister failed to show up though. I think she called ahead and told mémé she had work or something."

Elliot only nodded as he brought a piece of his cut lamb to his mouth.

"Anything happen at home while I was away?"

Elliot just shook his head and stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes. "What about you Sherlock? Were you good for Papa while I was away? You didn't BREAK anything, did you?" Aithley asked with a all knowing smirk.

Sherlock swallowed hard, "I...Umm...IamsorrymummyIdidn'tmeantobreakyourvase honestIdidn't-"

"Sherlock honey, slow down! It's alright, I'm not mad!"

"You're not?" Aithley just shoook her head.

Dinner was finished and Mummy and Papa Holmes sat chatting about work, schedules and stuff that simply bored Sherlock. Sherlock wondered if Mummy knew about the woman who came at night. She always seemed to stay in Mummy and Papa's room. Would she stay there now that Mummy was here? Maybe he should ask? Surely Mummy knew, and if Papa didn't want Sherlock to know about the woman who came at night (Why else would she come at night if not for his father not wanting him to know about her?) then he would tell Sherlock simply not to be bothered by it.

"Papa?" Sherlock spoke up as the dishes were being cleared away.

Both his parents stopped in whatever conversation they were in and turned to their son. "Yes? What is it son?"

"Is your lady friend going to be coming here after bedtime again?"

Elliot's face suddenly turned dark and Aithley faced looked both sadden and in horror at the same time. Sherlock decided at that point he never wanted to see he's parent's like that again. "S-Sherlock dear, why don't you go upstairs and get ready for bed? I'll be up shortly."

Sherlock sat on his bed hugging is knees, he had gotten his Pj's on and brushed his teeth and was waiting for someone to tuck him in and tell him a bedtime story.

At first it was quiet, then he heard murmurs, then he heard shouts, then someone screamed 'GET OUT!'

Sherlock shuttered when he heard the scream. He heard heavy feet pounding on the ground then the door fly open, and when the door was slammed shut it shook the whole house. About ten minutes later Sherlock's mother came into his room.

That night Aithley held her son in her arms as they both cried.

"Tomorrow Sherlock dear, why don't we go to the store? Just the two of us, and we'll pick out some nice things, okay?"

Sherlock only nodded and fell asleep in his mother's arms.


	8. Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock have their first fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've noticed I keep making things all happy then ending on a sad note. And even I'm making me a little depressed about that. So here's a little chapter that ends with some fluff. ^_^

The next morning when Sherlock woke up the first thing he noticed was that he was not in his bed. The second thing he noticed was that there was someone in the bed next to him. The little blonde mop turned in it's sleep and soon a little head peeped out from under the covers.

*Yawn* "Morning 'Lock."

"Morning John."

John looked over at the clock, "We should probably get up if we don't want to be late for school."

Sherlock looked over at the clock as well. He was surprised, he normally didn't sleep in so late, especially since he slept during the movie yesterday. It felt nice, normally he didn't feel so rested after he slept. He normally felt groggy and his mind felt clouded.

Sherlock groaned in response and slipped out of the bed. He stretched and fixed his twisted shirt. John turned his body and slowly slipped out of bed putting his stronger leg down first. "Does it hurt?" Sherlock asked.

"A little, but it mostly just aches and sometimes it stings. It mostly just hurts when I try and put all my weight on it. My doctor said something that I could hurt myself more if I get too excited or stressed out. I haven't yet so I don't know what will happen if I do."

Sherlock only nodded, he had a feeling this was first time John had ever said it to anyone, so it made him feel special.

Sherlock and John ended up eating breakfast alone and then brought to school by Mr. Wilson.

"Mr. Wilson, where's mummy?"

"You're mother, Mr. Holmes, is in a telephone conference and cannot be interrupted at the moment. She informed me that if the conference ended smoothly she would pick you up at school today."

"How did the conference sound when she 'informed' you?"

"Unpleasant."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, telephone conference, that was new one. "Sorry about your mum 'Lock."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Sherlock said looking through his notebook. It was Friday and today would be his last chance to deduce people. Ever since the 'Dinner Accident' his father forbid him to deduce while staying at his house. Lucky for Sherlock, he only went there once a month. Once his mother won custody over the boys, he and her ex husband came to an agreement. She could keep the last and the house as long as Elliot got to see each boy once a month.

"I don't know...I ca stop if you want..."

"No, it's okay, I- I think I like it..."

John and Sherlock took their normal seat in the back. But today Sherlock noticed that the girl next to boy kept trying to talk to him. Sherlock didn't want her to, John was his friend, why should she get to take him away from him? No, Sherlock had just made his first friend, he was not going to let so girl take him away!

"What do you got for lunch?" John asked the redheaded girl next to him.

"I brought-"

"You brought a peanut butter and banana sandwich. You can't have a PB&J sandwich because you're allergic to certain types of jams. I know because I heard your mum telling the teacher to make sure none of the other students touch you with jam-covered-fingers. You have an older brother you picks on you. I know that because-" Sherlock didn't get a chance to finish because the little girl started crying.

Mr. Matthews came over to see what was the matter. "Kate, are you alright?"

"That boy was being mean to me!" She said as he pointed over to Sherlock and John.

"Who? John?"

"No! The other boy! The dark haired one! He was saying stuff about me!"

Mr. Matthews had the girl go over and sit by Mrs. Bray and came back over to speak with Sherlock. "Now Sherlock, please tell me why you were being mean to Miss. Kate?"

"I wasn't! I was only telling the truth!"

Mr. Matthews had seen Sherlock and John together since the first day. He knew that if someone was saying something false or picking on Sherlock, John would be the one to sand up for him. He looked over at John to see if he had anything to say about the matter. When he saw John looking away from both him and Sherlock he knew that Sherlock was at fault to some point.

"Alright Sherlock, we'll short this out after class. We're going to be staring so I want you to stay quiet and try not to say anything you might think will hurt someone, alright?"

"Yes Sir."

"Thank you Sherlock."

At recess Sherlock sat on the swings while John sat by himself on the play-set watching Sherlock through the bars. He didn't understand it, why did Sherlock have to say those things about that nice girl? She was only being friendly. Yes, maybe she did overreact. But he didn't have to blurt it out that she had allergies and had a mean older brother! She was probably embarrassed about having allergies. Why couldn't Sherlock see that?

Sherlock didn't understand, yes he wanted the girl to back off from John, but he didn't mean for her to cry. And now John was avoiding him. Was what he did really that wrong? Why couldn't he just deductions to himself? Why did he always have to ruin everything? It seemed every time he made a deduction about someone he was close with it always drove them away. Sherlock only wanted his, he didn't was to lose him. Why couldn't John see that?

Sherlock knew he had to fix things now if he wanted to keep his friend. He would be able to see him over the weekend and by next week it might be too late.

Sherlock looked up and saw his friend looking down at him from the play-set. It seemed they were both thinking and feeling the same way. Yet for completely different reasons.

John sighed, Sherlock really didn't know how this whole 'friendship' thing worked did he?

Was he really his first friend? It didn't seem right, Sherlock was so cool! He was amazing and smart and fun! How could the whole be missing this?

John got up and slide down the slide. The little redheaded called Kate seemed to be doing fine now. She obviously wasn't too much affected by what Sherlock had said. Did girls always do that? Make everything seem like a big deal? John remembered he saw some girl called Sally yell at Sherlock on Sherlock's first day. Girls were certainly weird things.

They also smelled funny.

John walked over from the slide to the swings were Sherlock was. "Hi." He greeted Sherlock as he sat in the swing next to him.

"Hello." Sherlock said back.

They both pumped and swung with each other, not really knowing what to say. John decided he would have to be the first one to break the silence. "Why did you say those things about Kate?"

"Cause they were true."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to say them. She obviously didn't want anyone to know about her allergies or her brother."

"Why? Lots of kids have allergies, and even I have a mean older brother."

"Yeah, but it's different. Maybe there was some reason her and her brother were fighting and she was embarrassed about it."

"Yeah, but I didn't know the reason."

"Yeah, but she didn't know that. To Kate, you were a strange boy who somehow knew a lot of things about her without her telling you. She was probably scared."

"John."

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Are we still friends?"

John stopped and looked over at his friend who had also stopped swinging. John smiled and said "Yes 'Lock, you're my best friend!"


	9. To Father's House We Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets ready to go to his father's house.

Sherlock sat by the window in his bed room. His bags were all packed and waiting downstairs for his father's driver to come pick him up. Ever since the night when Sherlock exposed his father in front of his mother Elliot had been nothing but cold to him. Why Elliot wanted Sherlock and his brother to visit him at least once a month was beyond Sherlock.

The one thing that Sherlock was worried about most of all was her. On his last visit at his father's house, his father introduced Sherlock to his girlfriend Jessica Whites. She was your typical blonde-haired-blue-eyes American from California. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Elliot had told Sherlock that he might be moving soon.

Sherlock groaned when he thought of moving. The whole reason his mother had moved was so his father could keep the house. Mrs. Holmes had moved in to her grandfather's manor which she had inherited once her grandfather had pasted away. Sherlock was fine with this arrangement. The house had been previously used as a summer house, so really there were more happy memories then sad ones. It was also the house where Elliot had 'helped' Sherlock build a treehouse. Sherlock had one at his old house, but lighting had struck the tree and it fell. Sherlock was actually rather pleased and began taking pictures and during tests on the tree.

"Sherlock, father is here." Mycroft said from the door.

Sherlock scoffed, no, father was not here, rather it was his driver. And there was a 75% chance that Elliot would not be at the house when Sherlock would arrive.

Sherlock sat on is bed hugging Einstein. Myron would be home soon, which normally would excite him, Mycroft would always tell him stories about his teachers, or let him look over his textbooks. But from what his mother had told him, Mycroft had not taken the news about father leaving so well.

Sherlock heard the front door open and bags drop on the floor below. "Sherlock! Your brother is home!" his mother yelled. "Mum...please."

Sherlock didn't want to face his brother. He knew, Mycroft didn't have to say anything, but he still knew. Mycroft had blamed him for his father leaving, and honestly, Sherlock blamed himself. If Sherlock had simply kept his mouth shut, they would still be the happy little family they were before.

Sherlock heard a knock on his door, then his mother enter. "Honey? Aren't you going to say hello to your brother? I know how much you missed him."

Sherlock simply shook his head. His mother sighed, "Al- Alright, dinner is in a few hours. And please dress nicely, Meme and Pepe will be here soon."

"Mummy." Sherlock finally spoke.

"Yes Honey?"

"Will Grandma and Grandpa be coming over for Christmas?"

Sherlock could tell by the pain look in his mother's eyes that the answer would no. "I don't know Honey. We haven't really spoken yet."

"What about Aunt Quinn? Will she be coming over?"

"Sherlock dear, listen, me and your father's family aren't really speaking at the moment. I think we're all too embarrassed, defensive and angry to speak at the moment."

"Who are they angry?" Aithley could practically see her say thinking that they were mad at him. "Well, Grandma and Grandpa are mad at your father, but because he's their son Grandma doesn't want to be mad at him. I think we're all just confused at the moment and need time to think about everything and what to do next."

"Well much time to they need?"

"Too much for my liking honestly. I just wish w could be done and over with it."

"Me too mummy, me too."

Sherlock pulled the handle from his suitcase up and began to pull it with him towards the door. "Bye Mycroft." Sherlock said in nearly a whisper.

"Bye...Sherlock." Sherlock saying good-bye to him honestly surprised Mycroft. If it had been a few years back, they might have even hugged. But now, things were different. Ever since that night when Mycroft and Sherlock got into fight after Mycroft had made some stupid comment about Sherlock and the 'incident' with their father, Mycroft knew things could never go back to how they were before.

Mycroft watched from the window as Sherlock climbed into the back seat of the black car and watched as they drove away. Mycroft wasn't sure why, but for some reason their father always wanted him and Sherlock to visit at different times. Maybe he thought he couldn't handle them both at once? Maybe because it reminded him of how things were before too much. Whatever the reason, Mycroft thought him a coward for not even showing up to pick up his own son.

There were two reason why Mycroft hated his father. One, was because he had cheated on his mother. Two, was because Elliot favored Mycroft more than Sherlock. Elliot spoiled Mycroft, he would take him out and treat him like a real son. But with Sherlock, Mycroft didn't have to be there to know that most days consisted of Sherlock siting alone in a big manor.

"Evening Mr. Doulas." Sherlock said as he buckled his seat belt.

"Evening Mr. Holmes, your father had instructed me to bring you to his manor. Miss Whites is already there so you won't be alone. Also, your father asks that you do not disturb him tonight. He will be returning home late and will be tired. So please, try no to be a burden."

Sherlock looked up in the rearview up and looked Mr. Douglas straight in the eye and said "I like Mr. Wilson better."

Mr. Douglas knew all too well about 'Mr. Wilson', Mrs. Homes's driver. Once when Mr. Douglas was picking Mr. Holmes up form the airport, Mr. Wilson was bring Mrs. Holmes to the airport and they had crashed. The crash was obviously Mr. Wilson's fault, but of course the police would listen to the mother with the child in her car.

Mr. Douglas gave groan and turned back to the road. He could honestly cared less. Sherlock was a brat, the worst brat he had ever know. And that's saying a lot, because he had worked for many rich families. Why he even remembers this one family, The Adler Family, and their daughter-

Mr. Douglas shook his head, that was all in the past. Now he was working for Mr. Holmes. Elliot Holmes worked mostly from home, paid him well enough, and gave him lots of time off. He wasn't complaining.

But if that brat in the backseat did, he worried that he might get fired. He already knew Mr. Holmes highly valued the opinion of his other son, Mycroft Holmes, but what this one? Did he value his opinion too? Or was he just a brat who opened his mouth too wide once and learned the hard way that he should mind his own business.

Mr. Douglas guessed the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I feel like I'm focusing too much on Sherlock, so after the next chapter or so I'm gonna start writing a bit about John and his personal life.


	10. Houses Around the Globe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's first day at his father's house.

Elliot Holmes owned a flat on the other side of London. Elliot hardly ever stayed at the flat thought, he had a new house in America, a place in Tokyo, an apartment in Italy, a house in India, a flat in France. Although Elliot had told Sherlock that Jessica was his girlfriend, Sherlock had deduced that Elliot had at least one 'partner' for each of his houses.

The flat in London was small compared to his other houses, and you didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to know why. The only he was still in London was because of his business and his sons. The flat had two rooms, a living room, kitchen, and bathroom, nothing more than what was needed.

The downstairs bedroom was Elliot while the upstairs one was a guest room.

As soon as Sherlock arrived he went straight upstairs and began to unpack. It was when he was unpacking that he noticed it, the flat was unusually quiet. At each of his houses, Elliot Holmes had at least a few servants. The flat in London was no exception. Elliot Holmes had hired a housekeeper named Naomi, she was in her early sixties and lived a few houses over. She would spend most of her days cleaning the flat, buying fresh food for when her master would return and chatting with the tenants next door. Naomi was always the first one to greet Sherlock when he visited his father, she was the one thing that actually excited him during his visits. He would help her with her chores and then she would take him out on 'adventures' all over the city.

Sherlock came downstairs to see Mr. Douglas fixing himself a sandwich. Sherlock go down his knees and rested his head against the railing on the stairs.

"Where's Naomi?" Sherlock asked.

"Who?" Mr. Douglas said with a mouth full of his sandwich.

"Mrs. Clouds, where is she? She's normally here, so where is she?"

"Form what Mr. Holmes told me he fired her."

"What!? Why!?"

"Shut it brat! I don't know, all I know is one day she's here, next she's gone! No shut it and let me eat!"

Elliot Holmes came home late that night, the time he couldn't tell you, all he knew was that it was well past midnight and he could practically hear his bed calling him. He was walking up the stairs to his flat when he hear yelling, it sounded like Mr. Douglas, but what was he still doing here? Elliot had told him he would be late that night and that he would take a cab home and to take the rest of the night. So why was he still here? And who was he yelling at?

Oh yeah, Sherlock, great.

"THIS IS THE LAST TIME I'M TELLING YOU! GET INTO BED OR ELSE YOU'LL E IN SERIOUS TROUBLE!"

"Oh shut it! You can't do anything to me! You wouldn't dare! Especially when your right about to ask him for a raise! Why is that I wonder? Could it be because you need to pay off your debts from your stupid addiction to gambling!"

"OI! YOU LITTLE LIAR! YOU BETTER KEPT YOUR MOUTH SHUT!"

"Or what? I'll 'be in serious trouble', Ha! Honestly, couldn't think up anything-"

"Sherlock Holmes! Why are you not in bed?" Mr. Douglas had been with Sherlock since that after noon, the poor man was probably at wits end!

"Mr. Holmes!" Mr. Douglas jumped as he turned around.

"Go homes Mr. Douglas, you've done more than enough. Get some rest, I have a meeting tomorrow and will need here by 10 a.m."

"Yes Sir. Goodnight." And with that Mr. Douglas left the father and son alone in the small flat. Elliot Holmes sighed, "Mind telling what that was abo-"

"WHERE'S NAOMI!"

"Sherlock...Please try to understand, business has been down, I needed to cut down-"

"SO WHY NOT SELL YOUR HOUSE IN FRANCE! OR EVEN BETTER! GET RID OF THE ITALIAN GIRL WHO KEEPS CLINGING ON YOU! Does Miss. Whites know about her? I bet not! I bet she was some whore on the street who need some money and-"

"Sherlock Holmes I will not stand here and let you speak about Donatella like that! she is a respectful woman who need a job to support her family! She is simply my housekeeper! This paranoia of yours is completely ridicules! Just because I let someone lady watch over my house while I'm away does not mean I'm having some kind of relationship with her!"

"It's not paranoia! It's the facts! You just got back from your business meeting in Italy, correct? And I'm guessing you made a quick stop my the house before you left, just enough time you grab your things and get to the air port in time. I can still smell her perfume all over you! I've also looked through your files while you were gone, all your 'housekeeper', excluding Naomi, are all under the age of 35 and are all woman with no spouses."

"That doesn't prove anything!"

"It proves everything!"

"I don't have time for this Sherlock, go to bed, or at least to your room. I need my rest for my meeting in the morni-" Elliot said as he tried to made a quick get-away to his bedroom. "You never answered my question..." Sherlock said from the bottom of the staircase.

"Which was!?"

"What happened to Naomi."

Elliot sighed, "Caring isn't an advantage, Sherlock."

"Did you tell Mycroft that?"

"What?" Elliot said turning around. He had in fact said that to Mycroft, more like yelled it at him on hid first to his father after the separation.

"Nothing...Just...Answer my question...About Naomi..."

Mr. Holmes knew about Sherlock's attachment to the old housekeeper. But he'd finally bought a house in America, and Mrs. Clouds made it clear that London was her home and she had no intentions on leaving it.

"I bought a house in America, unfortunately not that one in California like had hopped. It's a beach house in Florida, I did ask Mrs. Clouds about coming there, I offered her a room and told her that she would be taken care of. But she said that she would much rather stay here in London. I had intended on her to stay on until next week, but apparently she got a job offer and will be starting in a couple of days. Now goodnight Sherlock, there is nothing more to talk about."


	11. Big Boys Don't Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night at the Watson house.

Warning: Mildly graphic description of Abuse and talk of blood.

* * *

At the Watson home, it was just after 8 p.m. and the family had finished dinner and was now reclining in front of the Telly, everyone except John that is. John was standing on a chair in front of the kitchen sink washing the dishes. He was alright, no one was hurting him; he wasn't being beaten, sworn at, kicked around, he was alright.

Inside every little boy there is a small part of their heart wants nothing more than their father's approval. Some boys played sports, some listened to their father's stories contently and would even encourage them to continue and tell more. Some boys would marry beautiful young women, some became successful in the business world, it didn't matter what, as long as they got the approval in the end, some boys would do anything to please their fathers.

John was no exception.

Washing the dishes, doing the clothes, moping the floors, mowing the lawn, anything to get his fathers approval. He hated being seen as weak, as some burden his father was forced to carry.

_As long as I do it right,_

_Don't mess up,_

_Don't-_

A plate slipped from his hand.

_Mess-_

John reached for the plate to and stop from smashing against the floor.

_Up-_

The plate crashed to the floor and shattered to pieces.

"John! What was that?" His father yelled from the living room.

John cringed, he knew what was to happen next, it was inevitable. His whole body seem to be shaking with every stomping foot step from his father. He tried to still himself, at least he could be strong and wouldn't give his father the victory of knowing he had broken his son. John tried to detach himself from all his emotions, of all the times now was not the time to be emotional.

"What the hell happened!?"

John slide off the chair, being extra cautious of his leg. He knew that his father would not risk John being sent to the hospital. But nor would John, if he said anything, Penelope and Harry might be hurt next.

He walked over to his father and stood with his shoulder straightened. "I accidentally dropped the plate father, I will pay for a new one. So please, go back to enjoying yourself in front of the telly."

Clint smacked his son's face. "Don't try and smooth talk your way out of this! We can't keep paying for new things stupid!"

Clint walked over and picked up a piece of the shattered plate. "You see this! You retard! This is what you are! Broken! An accident!" And while saying this he slashed John's face.

"AHHH! FATHER! STOP! PLEASE!"

"SHUT UP YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SH-"

"CLINT! STOP!" Penelope wanted to scream when she saw the blood dripping from the small boy's face. "STAY OUT OF THIS PENELOPE!"

"Clint! This has gone on far enou-"

She didn't get to finish what she was saying for her husband back-handed her began to shoving her. "YOU!" He said pointing at John. "WAIT THERE TILL I COME BACK! I SWEAR IF YOU'RE NOT THERE WHEN I GET BACK YOU'LL NEED MORE THAN A STUPID BRACE!"

* * *

Once she was out of Clint's reach, Penelope grabbed Harry and held her on the porch in front of the house.

"M- Mum, what's going to h-happen to John?"

"Shhhh Harry," Penelope said as he cradled the girls head against her chest. "John will need us to be brave for him-" Before Penelope could finish what she was saying she began having a coughing fit. Her whole body started shaking and her felt like she was freezing.

"Mum...MUM! Please, tell me, are you alright? Mum?"

"Shhh..." Was all Penelope could say as she rocked back-and-forth with her daughter.

* * *

John woke up the next day in an unfamiliar room. At first he started to panic, but calmed down once he realized he was in a hospital. It was the worst feeling in the world, he thought that his father would never go this far.

He looked over to see his sister was sitting in a hospital chair staring at the floor.

"H-Harry?"

The girl looked panicked and jumped a little when her brother called for her. "Oh John! You're awake! How do you feel? Does it hurt anywhere?"

"Ummm...Why- why is there a bandage around the one side of my head?"

Harry was hesitant for a moment, but then spoke. "The glass from the plate cut your right eye pretty badly, and your leg had gotten a lot worse. They had to do surgery on your eye, they said it will be two weeks before the bandages can come off, but then you have to have a patch, and it will be sometime after that before it will heal completely. The brace on your leg though, the doctors say it will have to stay on for another two months in addition to the amount of time it was still suppose to stay on. So in total it will have to stay on for three more months."

"H-How's Penelope?"

Harry sighed, she knew John would probably never consider Penelope as his mother, not as long as she continue to let her husband abuse John like this. Harry did pity Penelope, the poor woman was scared out of her wits. She could still remember the look of horror when they came back into the house to find John unconscious, lying on the kitchen floor with blood coming from his eyes.

"She's alright, scared as hell, but alright."

John only nodded, his thoughts returned to Sherlock. What was he doing right now? Was he working on a experiment? Was he being doted by his mother? Was he fighting with Mycroft?

"John Watson?"

The boy looked to see a doctor walk into the room. "It's good to see you awake young man," The doctor now turned to Harry, "Miss. Watson, could you please excuse us? I would like to talk with John alone for a moment."

Harry nodded her head and left.

"My name is Dr. Pits, now John, could you please tell me what happened?"

John froze for a second, his father had already hurt Penelope, there was nothing he could do about that, but there was still Harry. John looked towards the door, what if his father somehow found out he told them? He would be furious, he would surly kill him. If he was willing to hurt him so much that he had to be taken to the hospital, what was stopping him from killing John all together?

"I- I was washing the dishing with some hot water..."

"Yes, go on." The doctor encouraged him,

"I- I thought one of the cups had cooled down enough to use, so I filled it with cold water. The cup shattered and some of the pieces cut my eye."

John remembered that once when they were at a restaurant once a man from the table next to them glass shattered because the cup had just come out from the dishwasher. Harry had tried to explain to him about the heat from the glass and coolness from the drink and so on, but he never really understood it. Hopefully the doctor bought his story and wouldn't ask him to explain how.

"Hmmm... Well, be more careful next time. But, can you explain what happened to your leg? It's pretty beat up."

John looked down, not daring to look the doctor in the eye. "I-I was standing on a chair, cause I can't reach the sink...when the glass for in my eye I took a step back and-"

"fell off the chair?" The doctor filled in for him.

John nodded, it seemed like the doctor was buying his story.

"Alright, well everything else looks fine. If you need anything just push the call button for the nurse. You can leave tomorrow, I just wanna keep an eye on that eye to make sure it doesn't get infected or anything, alright?"

John nodded and looked out towards the window in his room. Maybe he could finally get some rest.

So john leaned back and closed his eyes, he was pretended he was away on trip. Oh! He had an idea! He pretended he was spending the night in a hotel room going to Disney World...and...maybe he could pretend that Sherlock was in the bed next to him, telling him about all the fun things they could do there.


	12. The Bliss of Being Home Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is back from the hospital and back at home. But will he receive the rest he needs? Or will he be pushed to the breaking point?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set sometime in the 1970's, I'm trying to make it as accurate as possible, making sure everything mentioned is from that timeline. If you find anything off please notify me!
> 
> Thank you!

"HE'S JUST NEEDS TO SUCK IT! YOUR CODDLING ISN'T GOING TO HELP HIM!"

"Clint...Please, he's hurt and needs to rest. Why don't you go downstairs and practice on your punching bag-"

"I DON'T NEED TO 'VENT' PENEL!" Clint Watson stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, "When I get back I want this mess taken care of. I want John doing his chores, and Harry doing her's, got it?"

"Clint...Harry's not here, remember? She went to stay at Clara's-"

"YOU LET THAT BITC-"

John decided at that point to stop listening by the door. He hobbled back into bed and grabbed one of his comics and turned on the radio, trying to drawn the noise. John loved reading comics, his favorite were the Captain America one's. Captain America was the reason he wanted to join the army when he was older. John was reading _Captain America Comic #7_ where Captain America was fighting against Red Skull. He was just getting to the good part when-

*Knock Knock Knock*

"Come in..."

Penelope came in carrying a tray with a bowl of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup.

"Here you go dear, how does your leg feel?"

"Thanks...Still sore a little, but I think I can start walking on it a bit."

Penelope propped the tray on John's lap and helped him sit up. she took the comic book and placed on the nightstand next to his bed. "Did you want anything to drink? I just bought some Orange Juice, we also have some Apple and Grape Juice as well."

"Could...Could I try a blend of Apple and Orange?" John asked as he took a sip of sew. "I don't know...That might be a bit much for your stomach..."

"Some Apple Juice than."

"Alright, one cup of Apple Juice coming right up!" With that, Penelope stood up and was about to leave the room when she heard John whisper a "...Thank you..."

* * *

Later on in the late afternoon, Penelope helped John move from his bed to the downstairs couch. John sat there quietly as Penelope busied herself with making dinner. she was making Italian Chicken and had just put the chicken in the oven.

Once dinner was cook she went to go check on John. "Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?" She asked as she sat down next to him and began feeling for a fever.

"I'm fine, a little warm and sore."

"Okay, well you don't need more medicine until after dinner. Does you stomach feel well enough to eat with the rest of us tonight?"

"Yeah, umm...is Harry going to be back tonight?"

"Yes, she's due back in about an hour. Why?"

"Cause Elton John is going to be on the Muppet Show tonight, and I remembered her saying she liked his stuff..."

"That's a lovely idea John! We can all watch it tonight after dinner! Is that alright?"

As John nodded, Penelope gave him a quick kiss on his forehead and went to go prepare the vegetables.

* * *

As he watched TV, John well asleep. He was not woken up until dinner by his sister. That night, it was just Penelope, Harry and John. John couldn't remember his father leaving, but was too afraid to ask what happened to him.

"Hey Harry..." John said as he tried to cut a piece of chicken for himself.

"What kiddo?" She said in between bites.

"Umm...Did you...Did you wanna watch TV with us later? Me and...Mum...Were going to watch The Muppet Show, Elton John going to be on it..."

Harry smiled and shook John's hair. "Sure...but whoever eats there food fastest gets the remote!" Harry yelled and her and John began shoveling their food into their mouths.

In the end, Penelope finished first and got the remote, John got to hold the Popcorn bowl as he st in between the two girls, and Harry got to sing on the top of her lungs along with Elton John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elton John, Captain America, The Captain America Comic's, The Muppet Show, and Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup all do not belong to me!
> 
> Elton John belongs to himself,
> 
> Captain America and The Captain America Comic's belong to Marvel.
> 
> The Muppet Show belongs to Jim Henson
> 
> Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup belongs to their own company!


	13. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John see each other at school. Sherlock makes a deduction, will John tell Sherlock the truth?

When Monday finally came around John's leg was healed enough so that he could attend school, but by his mother's request he had to sit in a wheelchair so he won't put too much pressure on it. It was hard at first, getting in and out of the chair, but with the help of his sister and mother he was able to eventually do it with ease.

* * *

Sherlock visit with his father was even more boring then the time, especially without Naomi. The visit mostly consisted of him watching TV and sneaking into his father's room when he wasn't around. The only time he actually went out was Saturday night when his father took him out to a restaurant. But the trip was cut short when he informed their waitress that her husband was cheating on her, with another man.

* * *

John was the first to make it to school. His teacher moved his normal desk with a shorter table that wasn't connected to a chair. John thought it was cool, it could be adjusted and even had a cup holder! Most of the kids thought it was cool as well, and soon were crowding around him to check it out. When asked what had happened, John told them the story that he told the doctor.

* * *

Sherlock came into the classroom to see a group of kids all gathered around where John's desk would be.

"Wow! You even got stickers to go it!" Said a boy looking at the stickers John's mother gave him to put on his wheelchair.

"Yeah! And my sister went to mall the other day and got me a Godzilla! And the teacher said I could keep it with me during class!...As long as I pay attention..."

Sherlock was finally able to see through the crowds to see John sitting in a wheelchair decorated with Captain America, Muppet, and dinosaur sticks hugging a Godzilla toy.

"John! What happened!?" Sherlock said as he rushed to his friend's side.

John shrugged and said "I had an accident at home; I got hurt with some glass pieces fro a cup and fell of the chair I was standing on."

Sherlock went to protest _Really John, that's the best excuse you got?_ , but the teacher came in, "Alright class! Today we're going to be reading a book together! And remember, tomorrow we're going to moving into our new classroom. So when you come into class tomorrow head down to the room with the Green door and the numbers 1-1-3 painted on it. On yes, and today is Carol Powers last day, so be sure to wish him good luck before he leaves!"  
Sally raises her hand and says "Mr. Matthew, wheres Mrs. Bray? And why are me moving into a new classroom?"

"Excellent question Sally, Mrs. Bray will no longer be your teacher. I will be taking over for her because she needs to take sometime off to help her daughter who just had a baby. Now about the classroom, the classroom we're in now is actually a spare classroom, our classroom had gotten a leak in it, but now it's fixed and we'll be moving back in tomorrow. Which means that all of you are going to be at tables now and will be in groups of four. You'll find out tomorrow what group and table your in."

* * *

At recess all the kids were buzzing about who's group they wanted to be in.

Today instead of sitting on the swings, John and Sherlock sat on a bench coloring. "John, what really happened, why did you lie?"

John looked startled for a minute, "Lock...listen, I accidently broke a plate when I was washing the dishes. My dad got mad at me and had to punish me."

"Punish!? It looks like he did a lot more than 'punish' you!"

"It's fine Sherlock, he just forgot how much my leg was already hurt and went a little to far... Don't worry, it won't happen again! Besides, i got to stay in bed all day and read comics! My mom even talked about getting the Godzilla movie!"

"But John, we should tell someone. Maybe we should tell Mr. Matthew or The Principal. maybe even Mycroft!"

"No!" John yelled with a crazed look, "Sherlock you have to promise me you'll never tell anyone!"

"But John-"

"No! You have to promise! You have to!"

Sherlock looked uncertain for a moment, "...or what?..."

"Lock please," John began, "You just have to! Cross your heart, okay?"

Sherlock gave a deep sigh and made a X over his heart. "...Cross my heart...But John, if you ever end up in the hospital again because of your dad you have to promise me you'll tell or at least let me tell!"

John thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay...But only if I end up at the hospital, deal?"

"Deal!"

And Sherlock and John spit in there hands, then shook on it.

"Hey John..." Sherlock said once they started coloring again. "I didn't know you liked dinosaurs."

John giggled, "I don't! But Peter Anderson gave me them in exchange for my apple juice!"

Sherlock sat up and looked up at John, "But I thought you liked Apple Juice?"

John looked over at his friend, "I do! But my sister sneaked a Soda Pop in bag when my mom wasn't look!"

The two boys giggled as they continued coloring. John never really all the attention all the other kids gave him anyways. He was much happier here coloring quietly with his friend then playing with the other kids by the noisy playground. At first, Penelope was worried about that, she thought maybe there must be something wrong or something had happened to John during the car crash. But the doctors in formed her after John got his brace on that John was just a private kid, and that it was probably due to the fact since his father was away at work all the time, and his sister at school, he just preferred quiet areas over loud ones.

John had spent most of his days being watched by his Aunt Bess and Uncle Brian. They had a son, but he was ten years older than John, so he really had no one to play with.

But now he had Sherlock, and Sherlock was never too loud, but he was also never too quiet. Sometimes people can be so quiet that it irritates John. John gets frustrated with them cause he thinks their all being quiet for him, and they pity him, which he hates.

"Hey Sherlock."

"Yes John?"

"We should plan another...playdate..."

"Yeah, yes we should."


	14. Meeting New People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John meet some new people. Some they likes, and some not so much.

The new classroom was very different from the old one. In the old one, all the walls were a creamy white color. In the new one, each wall was a different color. There was a Blue wall, a Yellow wall, a Green wall and a Red wall. There were also four tables that matched each wall and chairs that matched the color of the table.

"Alright everyone! Stand over by the Blue wall and wait until I call your name and tell you what table you will be sitting at."

So all the kids went and lined up at the Blue wall, the one where they were to hang the pictures they would color.

"Alright, Sally, Peterson, Clay and Mike, you will all be at the Green Table. Please go over there now and take a seat."

"Davy, Kate, Alice and William, you will be at the Yellow Table, please go there now."

"Louis, Heather, Ethan and Isaac, you will be at the Red Table."

"Sherlock, John and Cathy, you will be at the Blue Table. Alright? I everyone seated? Now why don't we take a few minutes to get to know everyone? I tried to pair you up so that you're near the people you normally sit next to so it would be a little familiar, but I unfortunately couldn't do that for everyone, so while I'm getting our lesson sorted why don't you all get to know the people at your table."

Cathrine Sandstone or 'Cathy' was short, much like John, and a bit chubby. She had black hair that went just past her shoulders and small blue eyes. she had cuts and bruises all over her legs from learning how to ride a bike, her father had finally taken the training wheels off.

"Ummm, Hi, I'm Cathy, what our your names?" The small girl said curling into herself.

"I'm John, and this is Sherlock."

"It's nice to meet you both, do you know why there's only three people at our table? Everyone else's has four..."

John just shrugged, but at the same time Sherlock spoke. "It's because Carol Powers was suppose to be at our table, but since he moved there was an uneven amount of people and there wouldn't be enough tables and chairs if they paired everyone up in twos or threes, so we got stuck with only having three, not that I'm complaining. Also, it's 'Everyone _else_ has four at there table' not _else's_ "

Cathy looked stunned for a moment, but then grew embarrassed. "S-Sorry, I'm not very good with grammar I'm afraid."

"Alight class! Have you gotten to know that people at your table? I hope so, cause these are the people you're going to be spending all day with. And remember, if you have a problem with someone at your table, Peterson this goes for you as well, please speak to ME about it."

* * *

The day was over before they knew it and the kids were all running out to get to there rides. As everyone ran past them to be the first ones out, Sherlock and John came out together at a slower pace.

"So when should we get together Sherlock?" John asked as his friend who had been pushing him from behind.

"Hmm...I don't know, how soon do you get out of this wheelchair?"

"Soon, my mum said within the next few days."

"We should probably fine out which day that is, so we don't plan it for the same day."

"Good idea, I'll ask my mum when she gets here. Hmm...I don't see her car out here yet...That's strange..."

John began to worry, his mum was always out there waiting for him when school was over. What if she got into another car crash? What if his father beat her and she had to be taken to the hospital? What if no one was coming? What if-

"You're think too loud John I can practically hear what your thinking!" Sherlock said as he came around and stood next to his friend. "Sorry Sherlock, I'm just a bit worry that's all. What if she doesn't come?"

"She will, and if she doesn't you can always come to my house! Mrs. Marble made Pie for dessert tonight!"

John and Sherlock had to wait a whole ten minutes before Mrs. Watson finally did show up.

With a bruise on her temple.

"Hey John! Sorry I was late Honey, I lost track or time and before I knew it, it was past time to pick you up!"

Sherlock pushed John over to the car and stopped to let John's mother help him get seated into the car. "My Sherlock! What a helper you've been! I feel a whole lot better know there's someone watching over my little man for me!"

"Mum...What happened?" John asked while his mother folded up his wheelchair. "What do you mean dear?"

"I think John is referring to the black-and-blue bruise on your head." Sherlock said opening the boot for Mrs. Watson. "Thank you Sherlock, but really, It was just from an accident at home. I opened our overstuffed closet and something fell and hit me there, there's really nothing to worry about."

* * *

Although Mr. Wilson didn't like it when Sherlock (or any of the Holmes really) made him wait, he honestly couldn't care when he saw Sherlock waiting with John in a wheelchair and even helping his mother put the wheelchair away. John was good for Sherlock, it was quite obvious. Ever since they became friends Sherlock had become more and more enjoyable (or at least tolerable) to be around. He knew told Mr. Wilson when he picked him from his father's house that he liked him more than his father driver, Mr. Douglas.

"Is mummy going to be home?" Sherlock asked as he buckled himself in.

"Not at the moment no, but I am to picker her up at the airport once I drop you off at home. We should be back in time fr dinner."

Sherlock gave a small huff in approval. Mr. Wilson knew that Sherlock would never admit it, but Sherlock hated spending dinner alone, sometimes with or without Mycroft. Although when Mycroft was there he at least had some form of company, it always led to fighting.

"And Sherlock..." Mr. Wilson knew that Mrs. Holmes had wanted to surprise her sons, but after the rant Sherlock went on on there way home from his father's house about his girlfriends/housekeepers, Mr. Wilson thought it best that he gave Sherlock a little heads-up.

"Yes Mr. Wilson?"

"I'm not suppose to tell you this..." He loved making everything seem mysterious, he knew Sherlock loved it too. With him driving the Holmes family everyone, and picking up and dropping off guests, Mr. Wilson knew that he was Sherlock's main source of information. And Mr. Wilson loved being it every second.

"Yes..." Sherlock said leaning forwards, as if Mr. Wilson would speak too quiet, and the secret would be lost forever.

"But you're mother is bring home a...Guest with her, it's meant to be a surprise."

"And this guest would be?"

"A close friend of hers..."

"You mean...A boyfriend?"

Mr. Wilson could hear the dread in the boy's voice. He had grown fond of Sherlock, and it pained him to think that Sherlock thought that all his father's love for him had been a lie, and that he could never have that type of love ever again.

"I'm not sure Sherlock, all she told me was to tell Dina to prepare an extra room for a guest flying in with her."

"Then how did you know it was a 'he' and that they were 'close friends'?"

"Cause after she told me I hear her laugh and tell someone named 'Esteban' to 'stop it' while laughing."

"And how do you know he's the one who's coming with her? He could just be someone she met-"

"Cause after that she said "Esteban is Italian so tell Mrs. Marble to cook up a four course Italian meal with Tiramisu for dessert." Mr. Wilson tried to do his best impression of Mrs. Holmes, and in reward he made Sherlock giggle a little.

After laughing, Sherlock spoke in a more serious tone. "Do you think my mum likes this 'Esteban'?"

"It's hard to say Sherlock, he could just be a business partner."

Sherlock nodded and returned to looking out the window. The rest of the ride was quiet, until Sherlock suddenly yelled out "That's not fair! We were going to have pie for dessert! She can't do that!"

Mr. Wilson laughed, "I'll see what I can do Sherlock."


	15. The Guest

That night Sherlock lay on his bed bored out of his mind. Mrs. Marble had thrown out his bird and he still wasn't done experimenting with it yet. Sherlock lay on his stomach looking over his notes. From what he observed that there was twice as many kids at the second school he went to compared to the one he was going to now.

He also noticed that Davy Adams was getting more and more nervous. He was fine at school; he had friends, good grades and almost never got in trouble with the teacher. So that meant that something was happening at his home. His mother brought him to school and picked him up everyday like usual. His younger brother was like any other baby brothers, annoying and whiny. The only thing that stood out was that Davy never spoke about his father.

Theory (1) Davy's father died.

Theory (2) Davy's father left them.

Theory (3) Davy's father has a job that might require him to be away from home a lot.

Theory (4) Davy simply doesn't like his father.

Theory (5) Davy's father is abusive.

Need More Data before coming to final conclusion or eliminating other theories...

Sherlock sighed and rolled over; his mother was due home in about a half hour. Her plane was forced to land due to engine problems. As Sherlock looked around his room for something to cure his boredom, he saw a small rainbow on his wall.

He remembered something Mycroft told him about light reflecting off of objects. He noticed that on his bookshelf sat a crystal that had fallen from the chandelier when Mycroft had taken his beach ball that had a globe design on it. Mycroft kept tossing it up in the air and laughing saying what a baby Sherlock was. He accidentally threw it too high and it hit the chandelier causing a few of the crystal pieces to fall off.

When Mycroft left to find Mrs. Marble or Dina to clean up the mess, Sherlock was able to grab a piece and sneak it up to his room to study it.

Sherlock got off his bed and walked over to the bookshelf and picked the crystal. He brought it over to the window and waved it around and watched the rainbow move to his command on the wall.

That's when he got an idea.

* * *

Mycroft was going to kill him.

He had told Sherlock to dress nicely for when their mother returned and to be down by the door to greet her and her 'surprise'. It wasn't hard to figure out mother had brought a person home with her. Who they were and why she brought them though, was still a mystery.

Mr. Wilson had just pulled up and Sherlock was nowhere to be found. Mycroft had about 4 minutes before his mother stepped through the doors and expected both of her sons to greet her. She obviously wanted to show them off for some reason.

3 minutes.

Mycroft had checked the kitchen, living room and was about to check the library. Sherlock would sometimes hide out in the library because it used to be his father's study and that no one would dare disturb the room. It was now covered in a layer of dust, but even still, it was one of the most marvelous rooms in the entire manor.

2 minutes.

Mycroft was desperate, he was now checking every closet, bathroom, and even in the under the sink. He was just about to give up when he passed the dining room. Above the dining room table was a chandelier, it had been lowered and all the crystal's going around it were missing.

Mycroft then realized something.

Mycoft ran to the hallway that ran between the kitchen, living room and library. In the hall there were small chandeliers going along the ceiling. He looked up and he saw that he was right. A ladder was leaning against the wall and all the crystals were missing from the chandelier.

"Mycroft! Sherlock! I'm home!" His mother's voice rang out. Mycroft cringed at the sound of her voice. He sighed and went to go meet her.

* * *

"Hello mother, how was your trip?" Mycroft asked as he walked towards the front door and took his mother's coat. "Oh fine, fine. Where's Sherlock?"

"I-...I'm not sure..." Mycroft all up muttered.

He heard his mother sigh, "Wilson, please go and fetch Sherlock."

Mycroft watched as Mr. Wilson went upstairs to find his younger brother. "Now Mycroft, I'd like you to meet Esteban Ricardo." She said as a man stepped inside.

Esteban was in his mid-thirties; he had fine tan skin and was an inch taller than Mrs. Holmes. He had black curly hair and brown eyes. He looked Indian or at least from the Middle-Eastern. He was dressed in a black suit with a dark green turtleneck underneath.

Mycroft thought he looked more like a body guard.

"Mr. Ricardo will be staying with us for the next few days and I want you and your brother on your best behaviors. Am I clear?"

"Yes of course mother."

"Now Aithley, I'm sure they'll be no trouble at all. I most likely won't even be around them during the majority of my trip."

"Ma'am." The three looked up to see an exasperated Wilson come down from the stairs. "Yes Wilson?" Mrs. Holmes asked.

"Young Master Sherlock is occupied with something at the moment and has informed me to tell you that his presence is not required."

Mrs. Holmes sighed and turned to Mycroft "Dear, could you please keep Mr. Ricardo entertained while I get your brother?"

"Oh no! Its fine Aithley, why don't I come with? You know, 'see him in his nature habitat'." Esteban said and began to laugh. Mrs. Holmes gave a small dry chuckle and led him and Mycroft upstairs towards Sherlock's room.

Mrs. Holmes stopped outside his door and knocked. "Sherlock Holmes! Come out here at once!"

"I'm busy!"

"Sherlock! We have a guest! Not stop being rude!"

"I'm busy!"

"If you don't come out of there I will come in!"

"I'm busy!"

Mrs. Holmes rolled her eyes and gave an angry huff. She opened the door and gasped.

"Sherlock Holmes! What on Earth are you doing!?"


	16. Why We Do What We Do

Hanging from strings attached by tape to Sherlock's ceiling was nearly all the crystals from around the house. Sherlock had taken down his curtains and placed each crystal so the light would hit it. Dancing all over his walls where tens of small miniature rainbows.

But the only thing Mrs. Holmes was looking at was the mess he made when setting up all the crystals. He had pieces of discarded tape all over the room, his bed a mess, his table and chair was tipped over and all his chemist stuff was all over the floor among the mess that was already there.

"Sherlock! Where did you get all those crystals?" Mrs. Holmes said with her hands crossed in front of her chest.

"From all over the house, I set them up so I know which ones belong in which part of the house. These ones are from the dining hall, these ones are from the hallway, these ones are from the guestrooms-"

"I want them put back immediately! Especially the ones from the Dining Hall and Guestrooms!"

"But- but mummy! I'm not finished them yet! I still have to-"

"Sherlock Holmes if all these crystals are not but back before bedtime tonight there will be no experiments for a week!"

Sherlock was furious; he had worked hard to set it up just right. The sun was in the perfect place so it was hitting the crystals just right. If he took them down now he would have to wait till tomorrow to do it, and it was suppose to rain tomorrow, so he would have to wait even longer! No, the only reason his mother was doing this was to impress her guest, who she was obviously sleeping with. The only reason she was even having Esteban sleep in the guestroom was because she didn't want to tell Mycroft and Sherlock yet about them.

"The only reason you want me to is cause of **HIM!** " Sherlock said as he pointed to Esteban, "If he wasn't here you wouldn't care! You would just tell Dina to have her bring up my dinner! You never even come into my room anymore! The last time you even step foot in here was two weeks ago! You don't-"

"YOU'RE GROUNDED!"

Everyone was silent.

Mycroft was stunned; he had never seen his mother yell like that. He assumed the only time she ever yelled was the night she found out about his father cheating on her. Nor had he ever seen his mother give a real punishment and carry on through with it. She would normally threaten Sherlock with a punishment and then mollycoddle him into doing whatever she wanted him to do.

Esteban was stunned, in the short time he knew Aithley he had never seen her yell before. It was quite obvious who the favorite was and who was the trouble child. Esteban couldn't say he quite pitied Sherlock. He understood why he was so upset, but he shouldn't have yelled at his mother. Esteban honestly just wanted Aithley and Sherlock to work it out, because he knew that if Sherlock would be punished, he would blame him for it.

Sherlock wanted to laugh; his mother was away from home so much that she wouldn't be able to tell what he did. She was obviously just putting on a show for Esteban to prove that she can manage her own household. His mother didn't really 'manage' if they were honest, but there wasn't any real trouble anyways so it didn't matter. Besides Mycroft picking on Sherlock from time to time, there was nothing to manage. Not anymore.

"No."

Mycroft and Esteban froze on spot; they knew this was not going to end well. Aithley raised her eyebrows, "No? Did you just tell me no!?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "You shouldn't repeat yourself mummy."

Aithley took a deep breath before speak. "Sherlock, for this week, no experiments, no going outside, no Tv, and no friends over. You will also not receive any dessert this week, and if I find out you have manipulated the servants to give you some, or to let you watch Tv or outside, then you can say good-bye to your chemist set. In fact..."

Mrs. Holmes walked over and gathered up the chemist set in her arms. "You can have it back at the end of this week."

Sherlock's eyes widen in horror, "No mummy! That's mine! You can't do that!" He ran over and tried pulling on the hem of his mother's clothes, but she did not even acknowledge him.

As Mummy left to put the chemist set away, Mycroft and Esteban made their way downstairs to the living room.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that, Sherlock has been difficult ever since father left." Mycroft said as he poured tea for the both of them.

"Yes, I image also the presence of another man in the house also had an affect on him. I hope you both understand that I don't want to replace your father. Your mother did inform me that you both still visit him and I don't wish to try and compete against him. I do admit, your mother is a very attractive woman, but I haven't made any advance to her. I came back with only the intentions of finishing up business with Aithley and to visit some of my own family."

Mycroft had to contain a chuckle, it was obvious from the moment Esteban stepped into their house that the had other 'intentions' as well. Esteban been eyeing up his mother and was practically drooling over her. It made sense that his mother would be interest in someone who adored her. Mrs. Holmes had felt that she disappointed her husband. That she had not been good enough for him. So it made sense that she would settle for some lesser businessman who only wanted her for her looks and money.

No, Mycroft had no worries about Esteban trying to replace his father.

"Yes, I understand, but Sherlock is young, and was in fact the first one to discover father's affair. I suspect he has lost all respect for older men."

"That's a shame, he looks like he's such a nice boy. Bit of a science nerdy isn't he? The way he nearly screamed when his mother picked up the chemist set! It actually looked like he cared more about the set than his own mother! I bet that if he had the right discipline, he would grow up to be a fine respectable young man."

Mycroft eyed Esteban, he didn't like where this conversation was headed. He hoped his mother would return soon, it was all becoming all too clear to Mycroft what would happen if Esteban DID become part of their 'family'. Mycroft didn't honestly think that his mother would seriously commit to Esteban or him to her. But Mycroft liked to be prepared for every possible outcome.

If Esteban did end up staying, Mycroft had no doubt that he and Sherlock would be shipped to some Boarding School, possibly one out of the country. Mycroft could handle being shipped away, he'd went to a private school far enough away where he had to stay at a dorm before, but Sherlock hadn't.

This past year Mrs. Holmes had been making many changes, trying to move on from the hurt that was left from her husband. She had Mycroft enrolled at a private school closer to home and tried to spend as much time as she could at home. But with her two jobs, both being her own thriving business, she barely had a moment to spare.

Sherlock was just getting use to his new school, he had even made a friend. Mycroft himself had seen the affects that John had on Sherlock. No, Mycroft would ensure that Sherlock stayed close to his new friend.

"I don't believe that's the problem Mr. Ricardo, I think-"

But before Mycroft could let Esteban know he really felt, his mother enter the room. She had obviously refreshed herself and had changed her clothes. It was amazing what a Holmes, even one who is married into the family, can do with a few spare moments.

"I'm terribly sorry Esteban, I honestly don't know what happened to Sherlock. I think it's all my time away that's had such an affect on him. I'm so glad that I've manage to get some time off. I think it will do us all some good." Mrs. Holmes said as he seated herself next to Mycroft.

"I'm sure that's the reason Aithley, I was just talking with Mycoft here about it. It can be hard on young children when they are in control for long periods of time. They start to think that they have rule over their own lives, which can led to them making horrible decisions. My father would not have tolerated it if I had acted in such a behavior."

Mycroft inwardly groaned, his mother and Esteban were so desperate they clearly didn't see how at odds they were. It pained Mycroft to see his mother let herself fall so far. She could do so much better.

Aithley Holmes wanted someone who would simply accept her and her children. Esteban Ricardo just wanted an attractive and wealthy woman. They both feed each others wants, but would they feed each others needs?

One of them would eventually come to their senses and move on. If it was his mother, Mycroft knew they would both move on quickly. But if it were Esteban, he feared his mother would seep into depression.


	17. The Many Encounters of Sherlock Holmes

Mr. Ricardo (or as Sherlock called him 'Mr Ricotta', the man ate it with everything!) stay went from a few days to a few weeks. The excuses was everything from he 'missed' his plane to him and Mrs. Holmes made plans that simply could not be canceled. And poor little John Watson was the one who had to put up with Sherlock complains ( _How is it possible for one human to consume so much cheese!_ )

Sherlock's punishment came and went, he was soon doing every experiment he could think of to make Esteban's trip as horrible as possible. During the time that Esteban stayed at the Holmes Manor, other then at meal time, Sherlock saw him a total of five times.

(1) A accidental run-in at the garden when Sherlock went to gather some samples.

(2) When Esteban tried to 'bond' with Sherlock by trying to watch a movie with him. Sherlock was surprised that Esteban last the fifteen minutes through the Nature Documentary. By twenty minutes Esteban feel asleep and Sherlock sneaked back upstairs to his room.

(3) When Esteban brought him to school. But that failed completely when Sherlock started giving him directions to park telling Esteban that his school was going on an 'outing'. Sherlock ended up getting to spend three hours at the park. By the third hour Sherlock started to get bored and told a cop that his parents forgot him. The officer was none too impressed when Mycroft answered the phone. It wasn't until after Mycroft told the cop that his mother was out with her new boyfriend that he realized when had happened.

(4) It was a hot Saturday and Sherlock decided to run an experiment that included frogs in the family pool. Unfortunately he decided to run this experiment the same time Esteban decided to go swimming.

(5) Sherlock bumped into Esteban just as he was leaving the bathroom. In Sherlock's defense he was actually trying to prank Mycroft, but fate decided to play a cruel trick when Esteban used Mycroft's shampoo that Sherlock had switched out with blue hair dye.

* * *

John pitied this 'Mr. Ricotta' bloke (It was the only name Sherlock used around him).

It was a Friday afternoon, John had finally gotten out of his wheelchair and was now using crunches. The school bell had let out a loud ring and all the kids were rushing to get out.

"Please John! We've been talking about plans another get-together! And you've already been to my house!"

Sherlock had been practically begging (exact, according to Sherlock, he never begged) to spend the night at John's house.

After the fight between Mrs. Watson and Mr. Watson things had been quite tense at the Watson's house. Mr. Watson was coming home later and later and drunker and drunker. Mrs. Watson was starting to worry about the influence this would have on Harry, but of course, would never voice her concerns.

Perhaps if he locked his bedroom door...John began think, but then he remembered when he tried that once. He learned two things that day, locking door only angered his father and one cannot life only on sweets that he hide in his room.

"I-I don't know..."

The first time Sherlock used what was know as 'Puppy eyes' or "Puppy Pout' was Christmas on Dina when he was asking her to let him stay up late. Mrs. Holmes had an 'unexpected emergency' that day and Mycroft was downstairs entertaining whatever family member decided to grace their family with their presences. Dina had fallen victim and let Sherlock stay up an hour later in his room.

Next Sherlock used it on his mother when he wanted a pet horse. Then Mrs. Marble and Mr. Wilson, were the next two to fall victim to Sherlock's little pout.

Mr. Anderson, the gardener, was the last person to become a victim. Sherlock used his his newly found power when he wanted a sample of mold. It worked to easy in Sherlock's opinion.

The only person who didn't fall for Sherlock's pout was Mycroft.

And now John.

As hard as Sherlock tried John didn't seem to change his mind in the slightest. This irritated Sherlock, but he had to admire John's will force.

"Alright then, since begging and pouting didn't work..."

Sherlock threw himself onto John and wrapped his arms around his waste.

"Wh- What are you doing!?" John said as he tried to pry Sherlock off of himself.

"I'm not letting go until you let me come over your house!"

"Sh- Sherlock I have to go! My mum is waiting for me!"

"I'm not letting go!"

"SHERLOCK!"

"JOHN!"

John growled and marched over towards the car with his mum. As he walked Sherlock trudged along him bent over.

* * *

When John first started school she always had a nagging fear that the other kids would treat John differently because of his brace. She would always remember the day when John first told her about Sherlock.

Penelope knew that as long as John had Sherlock by his side she had nothing to worry about. Over the past few weeks she realized just how inseparable the two had become.

Although that was true, she never imaged they'd become _this_ inseparable.

She watched as John came marching over with a bent over Sherlock clinging to his waste. It took all her strength not to laugh when she saw the scowl on John's face.

"Mum..." John said in a clearly annoyed voice. But behind the annoyances there was fondness behind it.

"Yes dear," She said, playing along.

"Can Sherlock spend the night at our house?"

As much as Mrs. Watson wanted to say no...She couldn't. It wasn't fair that John got to see Sherlock's personal life and he couldn't see John's. After hearing Sherlock's deductions the first time it wouldn't surprise her if Sherlock already knew about...Her husband.

Mrs. Watson gave a fake sigh, "I suppose he can..." she said with much added sarcasm.

Sherlock released John yelled over his shoulders that he was going to speak with Mr. Wilson. John turned and glared at his mother.

"Oh come on John, it won't be that bad. I'm sure you'll both have a great time!"

"Maybe...Is- It father home?"

This time Mrs. Watson gave a real sigh, "As far as I know he never returned last night."

John only nodded as he watched his friend come running back with a beaming smiling upon his face.

"Mr. Wilson is calling my mom to let her know where I am!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"Don't you need to ask her first?" said John as he opened the side door to let Sherlock into his family van. "She won't mind. Besides she probably too busy with Mr. Ricotta to even notice I'm gone!"

* * *

"Mrs. Holmes? Yes this Mr. Wilson."

...

"I'm at Sherlock's school right now."

...

"The problem is he never showed up. I just checked with his teacher, according to him Sherlock was in class and left along side with his friend John Watson."

...

"I haven't seen either of them."

...

"Yes ma'am, I'll call up Mrs. Watson as soon as I hung up."

...

"Good day Mrs. Holmes."


	18. Water Fights and Crips

John's house was nowhere near as big as Sherlock's. John's house was an average two-story house with a staircase directly in front of the front door. The walls where a creamy whitish color expect in the living room where it was a light brown with a dark brown wall for an accent wall. The floors were wood expect for the kitchen where there was blue and white mixed colored tiles. The living room had a carpet that was red with different colored leaves and a green trim going around it.

There were four rooms altogether on the downstairs; the kitchen, the living-room, the dining room and a half-bathroom.

The upstairs had fours and two half rooms; two bedrooms, a master bedroom that had a bathroom and a study connected to it and bathroom in the hallway by the two other bedrooms.

There was also a guest bedroom and a laundry room in the basement, but since it was in the basement it was starting to get mold in it. Rather than for guests, John's father would send him in there if he had been 'bad' that day. The guestroom had a worn out old mattress with an old sheet that had holes in it. The rooms also contained an old mirror, but the mirror was covered in dust and could just barely show any reflects anymore. There was also a hard, rusty, metal fold-up chair in the corner the squeaked with moved.

When they arrived at the house, John took Sherlock directly up to his room.

"We should finish our homework first, then we can...I don't know...maybe we can go down to the creek!" John said as he threw his backpack on the floor of his room.

"Oh yeah, you told me you had one in your backyard." Said Sherlock, doing the same with his backpack.

"Yeah, but we have to walk a bit though, it's in the woods."

* * *

"Sherlock stop! You're getting me all wet!" John yelled, he and Sherlock were by the edge creek.

The 'creek' turned out to be no more than a small stream, but still, it had many different types of samples of specimens. There were three different types of mushrooms growing in one spot, there was also a spot were bugs were swimming and also some toads hopping about too.

John cupped his hands and splashed some water but at Sherlock. What started out as some small teasing turned into a full blown water fight.

The two finally decided to call it truces when they were both soaked.

* * *

Sherlock looked over to see John sitting on the ground taking off his socks and shoes to let them dry. He turned back around and climbed on a rock and spotted the toad he had been following.

"Sherlock!" John yelled from his spot on the ground, "Don't wonder off to far!"

Sherlock only have a slight nod and went back to the toad.

* * *

The walk back was an awkward one, both boys were soaked and their clothes clung to them and their shoes sloshed with water in them.

* * *

When John and Sherlock got back Penelope was waiting for them at the back door.

"Sherlock, do you have anything you want to explain?" She said when the two approached the door. Sherlock looked back at John, then back to his mother.

"Well, you see, I- I splashed John...It was only a little bit! But then he splashed me back and- and then we...I don't know, it just sorta happened-"

Mrs. Watson couldn't honestly care that the boys were drenched to the bone. When she saw the boys coming back from a far and noticed how wet they were, she also noticed how brightly John was smiling. If being soaking wet meant John was happy, then she wouldn't mind if he came home wet every day. What she did mind was Sherlock lying about talking with Mr. Wilson.

"Oh no dear! I'm not upset about that! I just got off the phone with Mr. Wilson; he said that you never asked about coming over here today."

John gasped, coming home soaked was one thing, but sneaking off to someone's house, he didn't even wanna imagine what kind of trouble Sherlock was in.

"I spoke with your mother Sherlock," Mrs. Watson continued, "You're still allowed to spend the night, but tomorrow you are to go home first thing in the morning. You should know better Sherlock; you gave your mother quite a scare."

* * *

"Why'd you do that Sherlock!?" John asked as they sat on John's bed.

"Just stop John..."

"Sherlock! What if somethin' was to happen to you? You're family would never know!"

"It doesn't matter! It's not like they would have cared!"

"Yeah huh they would have!"

Sherlock sat with his knees drawn up and cradled them between his arms and buried his head between them. John sighed; he took a blanket and placed it on top of Sherlock. "Come out when you're ready, I'm going to get some sneak then come back up here, okay?"

John didn't really give Sherlock a chance to say anything before he left. When John did come back he had two small bags of crisps and two apple juice boxes. He placed a bag and box next Sherlock, who was still under the blanket, and sat next to him and ate his own crisps.

"You should really have some crisps, there good."

Sherlock grabbed the edges of the blanket and lifted it so they lay on his head. "I- I guess I can try some...just a few maybe..."

"Sherlock, when was the last time you eat? Cause I saw you give your launch to the boy who didn't have any."

Sherlock hummed as he ate a few crisps, "The boy's name is Davy, he's dad died a few months back and now his family is going too evicted from their home."

"E- Evic-ted?"

"It means that their being kicked out and have to live somewhere else."

"Oh..."

"You're right John."

" 'bout what?"

"These crisps are good."


	19. Amazing You

"JOOOOOOHN! SHERLOOOOOOCK!"

The two boys snapped their heads up when they heard their names being called from Harry's room. Next they heard Mrs. Watson's footsteps coming up the stairs. "I told you we'd get in trouble!" John protested as they got off of his bed.

"They can't prove anything! Harry wasn't even in the house when we went in her room! Your mum was outside in the garden so she couldn't have seen or heard anything either!"

The two boys plus Mrs. Watson walked into Harry's room to see why she was causing such havoc. When the door was opened it revealed that Harry's room was covered in toads.

"Well don't just stand there you twits! You two were the ones who caused this mess; you two are the ones who are going to clean it up!" Harry yelled from her bed which she was standing on.

John and Sherlock dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Alright, c'mon you two, let's get this mess cleaned up before your father gets home."

At the mention of his father, John and Sherlock stopped giggling and quickly got to trying to catch the toads. Mrs. Watson was kind enough to provide a garbage bag for the boys to put the toads in once they caught them. After about 10 minutes they had caught 7 toads and still had about 5 more.

"Where did you even find them all?" Asked Harry who was standing by the door holding the bag for the boys.

"Down by the creek." John answered as he jumped to catch a toad.

"Ewwwwww!" The brother and sister heard Sherlock yell. "What? What is it?" John called over his shoulder as he leaped for another toad.

"One of the toads peed on me!"

"Don't you dare touch anything of mine!" Harry yelled from the door.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "The bag you are holding is probably filled with toads covered in their own pee. Trust me, my pee-covered hand aren't the worst of your problems."

Harry held the bag away from her as John put another toad in. "This is disgusting! I swear if either of you ever do anything like this again I'll make sure that every time Sherlock comes over that it will be the same night I invite my friends over as well, and we'll all hog the bathroom and make you go in the woods!"

Although Sherlock rolled his eyes, thinking that Harry was exaggerating, John took the threat _very_ seriously.

* * *

After catching and releasing the toads (And washing their hands very thoroughly) the three of them helped Mrs. Watson set the table for dinner.

On their way home from school Mrs. Watson asked if Sherlock wanted to have Italian Chicken tonight. Sherlock's eyes widen in horror and asked if he could have something else.

Mrs. Watson suggested instead then if they have the stuffed Chicken that she had been planning for Sunday.

The table was set for five (Mrs. Watson wanted to be prepared in case her husband returned home) and they all sat down and eat happily.

They were almost done eating when the front door flew open and Mr. Watson stepped inside. "Penelope! Is dinner ready?" the man asked as he walked inside, staining the floor with his muddy boots.

"Yes dear, I'll get your plate ready." Mrs. Watson turned to the boys, "Sherlock, John, why don't you two go upstairs and get ready for bed. Harry, will you please stay and help me clear the table?"

They all agreed and the two boys took off upstairs. But before they reached the stairs they bumped into Mr. Watson.

"Who the hell is this!?" He asked why he saw Sherlock.

"F- father, this is my friend, Sherlock."

"Sherlock? What kind of name is that? Sounds like something that a salesperson would say. Bet ya came from a sales..."

John sighed as his father trailed off. "Yeah...Ummm...Me and Sherlock gotta go upstairs now, and ya know...get ready for bed..."

"Where's he sleeping?"

John swallowed hard, "In my room..."

"Why not the guestroom?"

John had been dreading this, "Father- you- you know the guestroom-...It's still- it's dirty right now and no one sleep in right now."

"So why didn't you clean it?"

"Hey John, I think we left your lava lamp on, we should go check on it!" Sherlock said before dragging John up the stairs. He could see that John was getting uncomfortable with the conversation with his father. He didn't know what this 'guestroom' was, and he had a feeling he didn't want to know.

* * *

"John, when's your birthday?" Sherlock asked as he pulled his night shirt over his head.

"July 7th, when is yours?"

"January 6th- John look out!"

John was struggling with putting on his bottoms and had accidentally stepped on one of the legs and tripped. John fell backwards and landed on his bum. "Are okay John?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, my bum just feels funny."

Sherlock helped his friend up, they were both sitting on John's bed when they heard yelling coming from downstairs.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?" Mr. Watson could be heard yelling.

"It was probably just the boys, I'll just go up there to make sure their ok-" Mrs. Watson said, the boys could hear her chair scrapping along the floor as she got up.

"Who is that Sherlock kid anyways?"

"John met him at school; they've been pretty close since then. I think it's nice-"

"I didn't ask for your opinion Penelope! I bet he's probably the Milkman's kid."

"Clint! You shouldn't say such things while there are children in the house!"

"And why the hell not? It's like they could screw up even more!"

"Clint!"

"He's an idiot." John snapped his head over to look over at his friend. "What?"

"Your father, if he honestly thinks that you're a screw-up than he's an idiot. I never thought anyone could be so idiotic that they could miss possibly one of the most clearest and simplest of things. Yet again John, your family proves me wrong."

"What did my father miss?"

"How amazing you are."


	20. The Misery of Being Home Sick

Sherlock sat with his bag next to him and with his arms crossed on his chest. He was doing what John had called 'The Pout".

"I'd get that scrawl off your face young man, having to go home early isn't nowhere near as bad of a punishment as what my old man would have given me if I was in your place."

"I was perfectly fine! The worst that happened was I got wet!"

"You still put everyone in a scare Sherlock. You can't keep doing this; this is the second time you've snuck off on your own. Wouldn't surprise me if one day your mum puts you on a leash." Said Mr. Wilson when he picked up Sherlock.

When the car stopped outside the Holmes Manor Sherlock flipped himself over so he was upside down. "Sherlock, c'mon, you're going to have to face your family sooner or later." Mr. Wilson said as he went around and picked up Sherlock's bag. Sherlock folded himself in half and pulled himself up. He could hear footsteps on the cement of the driveway.

"Mrs. Holmes sent me to escort Young Mr. Holmes up to her study." He heard Tobias Anderson say.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, Mr. Anderson's son, Peterson, went to school with Sherlock. In fact, Tobias was the one who recommended it to his mother.

Sherlock never really liked Anderson, he always yelled at Sherlock when he would go out and try and collect samples from the garden. They both had a mutual agreement to stay out of each other's way.

Sherlock walked allow side Anderson, neither of them saying a word.

* * *

"Sherlock Holmes you stupid boy!" Mrs. Holmes said as she embraced her son. Both Sherlock and Mycroft rolled their eyes. Their mother had a habit of having rather inconvenient mood swings, one moment she would be calm cool and collective, and the next she would be smothering her boys and fretting over them.

The reason it annoyed them both was because it happened so often that they could hardly tell the difference from when she was having one of her moods or when she really did feel concerned about them.

Mr. Ricardo was sitting on Mrs. Holmes settee sipping wine. Sherlock couldn't place it, but something had changed about the man. He seemed more irritated, but Sherlock couldn't tell if it was because of him or from something else.

_Ink on his right hand and his left ear is redder, as if something had been pressed up against it._

_So he must have had a phone call and must have had to take a note._

_He's legs are crossed and he's shaking his right foot, anxious about something._

_Keeps looking between mother and me, he is waiting till I leave to tell mother something._

_Mycroft looks put offs, (he always looks like that) he already knows or deduced it._

"I was perfectly fine mother; I was with John the whole time."

"And what if something was to happen to you? We would have never known!"

"That's ridiculous! If something was to happen to me Mrs. Watson would have called you! Well, Mr. Wilson or Mycroft, but you'd hear either way!"

"Sherlock please, go to your room and wait for me there. Mr. Ricardo and I were about to discuss something before you came in."

Sherlock nodded and left the room, on his way out he and Mycroft locked eyes for a moment. The moment was all he needed, he knew what Mr. Ricardo was about to speak to his mother about. The only problem was he couldn't decide if he was glad or angry.

What Mr. Ricardo was about to say would distract his mother and she would soon forget about the whole incident. But it would also mean change was about to happen, and Sherlock was getting sick of changes.

* * *

About 20 minutes later Sherlock heard a knock on his bedroom door. "Come in Mycroft, I know it's you."

"I'm guessing you already deduced what going on."

"Let's see, it's something that's distracting mother, involves Mr. Ricardo, something about the phone call he made earlier, and it's something-"

"Their engaged."

* * *

The first night of the engagement the manor was quiet. Mr. Ricardo and Mrs. Holmes celebrated together with wine and music.

One the second night plans were made for Sherlock's Mémé and Pépé to fly down from France. Sherlock also founded out his mother had invited his aunt and cousins to send a couple of days at the Holmes manor.

One the third day Sherlock had invited John over to meet his Pépé. His Pépé took Sherlock and John down to an Ice Cream Parlor while the rest of the family talked about plans for the wedding and the Engagement Party Mrs. Holmes was hosting in a few days.

On the fourth day his Pépé had to stay in bed because he was too sick to leave his bed.

That day, Mrs. Holmes asked Mrs. Watson if Sherlock could spend that day at their house.

* * *

"Do you know what happened?" John asked as they sat on a large rock down by the creek.

John wore a simple red T-shirt with blue jeans while Sherlock had on black shorts with a white undershirt and a gray plain jumper over it.

"No, this morning when I came down for breakfast I asked my mum where Pépé was and she said that he was sick and I was to spend the day with you, nothing else. But it seemed that everyone else knew what was going on. Before I left I asked Mycroft, he just shook his head and told me that for once just do as I am told. I don't understand it!"

"What if- What if he's really sick...And you know..."

"No I don't! What!?"

"Has to go to the hospital..."

John's Grandmother had gotten really sick and to be taken to a hospital. Now if he wants to see her they have to go to what was called a Nursing Home. He asked Harry what a Nursing Home was; she said it was a place old people go to when they can't take care of themselves or a house anymore.

"No! No, Pépé was perfectly fine yesterday! What could have happened in just a few hours!?"

"I don't know...Maybe it's something contagious, so that's why you had to come here. I'm sure he'll be fine in a few days!"

* * *

"You should have let him stay." Mycroft said without looking up from his book. For the last few months Pépé had been very ill, they all knew how close Sherlock had been to the old man so his mother had decided to send him away while the doctor examined him.

"Mycroft, you know Sherlock would have reacted badly if he knew the truth. These past few years have been hard for him. This is the last thing he needs right now."

"What he needs is to know that someone loves him! He feels neglected! The least you could do is to let him be with the one person who still shows him love before he dies!"

"MYCROFT!" Mrs. Holmes took a deep breath before continuing. She understood that Mycroft felt it was his place to take change since his father was gone, but with the wedding, the party, her father, her family, and now Sherlock...She just needed someone who was going to help her take on all the pressure and exceptions. That's why she wanted to marry Esteban as soon as possible. No she wasn't going to try and rush it and marry him within the next few months, but sometime next summer would be nice.

"Look, we don't know if he's dying yet or not, and I don't need Sherlock freaking out just because Pépé got a little sick-"

"Will you stop sugar coating it! The man had a stroke! He's lucky to still be alive!"

The one thing Mycroft enjoyed between him and Sherlock was that they always shoot it straight with each other. Yes they would (sometimes) put it gently, put they never tried to cover up the truth with 'innocent' little white lies.

White lies were the worst kind.

Mycroft was given the duty was entertaining his cousins. They had four cousins staying at the Holmes Manor. His Aunt Imogene had two sons of her own, the twins Ronald and Harold. They always tried to play pranks on everyone and tried to steal Mycroft's dessert.

When his uncle Lawrence wasn't drunk, he was rather pleasant and told stories of all his trips. Lawrence and Elliot Holmes never got along, they always fought because Elliot thought him irresponsible taking his son with him on his journeys. Once Aithley was divorced she started spending more time with her brother and her brother less time with alcohol. Lawrence's son, Arthur, was quiet and shy. He never stood up for himself and was one of the few relatives Sherlock didn't hate.

Aithley Holmes had three siblings, Lawrence, Imogene and the youngest Wilbert.

Wilbert Collins had his own fortune in the restaurant business. Even though he was younger than Aithley she always looked up to him. He married a woman named Lucelia and they had a daughter around Mycroft's age, her name was Lilith.

The twins were in the kitchen the last Mycroft saw them, probably hitting on Dina, (Even though she was 16 and they were 12) and causing trouble for Mrs. Marbles.

Arthur was probably still in his room reading the book Mycroft gave him from the library... Over 5 hours ago.

And Lilith was probably still in the bathroom doing who knows what.

"Mycroft...go see to your cousins." Was all his mother said, he could tell she was tired and wanted a moment alone.

With his bad experience with his own father, Mycroft sometimes found it hard to relate with his mother. He wanted to stay by her side, be there and image what it would be like if it were his father in that position.

Mycroft nodded and left to find his cousins.


	21. How Mycroft Learned to Deduce

John and Sherlock were looking at a butterfly they caught inside of a jar in John's room. "Whoa, do you know what kind of butterfly it is?"

"It's a male Papilio machaon, or more commonly known as the Swallowtail, it's part of the Papilionidae family."

"Whoa...How do you know so much?" John asked as he peered at the butterfly through the glass.

"I got sick a few years back; Mrs. Marble didn't allow me to leaves the house for two days. So most of the time I stayed it in the library. That, and with all the stuff I learned from the books Mycroft brings back from his school, I've learned a lot of stuff."

*Knock, Knock*

"Who is it!?" John yelled towards the door. The door was opened by John's mother, "Just me boys! Your brother just called Sherlock; he said that your mother wants you to spend the night. Mr. Wilson is bringing you some clothes and should be here in a little bit."

"Okay, thank you Mrs. Watson."

"Please Sherlock, call me Penelope!"

* * *

"Why do you think you have to stay the night?" John said, they were outside about to release the butterfly.

"I don't know, do- do you think...Pépé-"

"I'm sure he's fine Sherlock!" John said trying to unscrew the lid on the jar.

"...John..."

"Yes Sherlock?"

"I'm scared..."

* * *

"What opinions do we have?" Asked Mycroft once he saw his mother come back down the stairs.

Mrs. Holmes had stopped long ago wondering how her boys knew everything. It was when Mycroft was five that she realized he had inherited his deduction skills from her father. When Aithley was a little girl she had always thought her father was normal, but it wasn't until her best friend nearly started crying when Aithley's father deduced that she was pregnant that she realized that her father was different.

Aithley remembered her friends complaining about how their parents always seemed to know what they were doing. What she soon found out that it was not normal for your parents to know you had for lunch, what someone said to you to make you upset, the exact amount of how much weight you gained, what restaurant a boy took you to, or the exact moment you fell asleep and woke up.

The memories of kids making fun of her because of her father still haunted her. They were also the reason she was afraid to let her boys go to public school. She knew that children in the upper class were practically trained to not get on a person's bad side, at least not as up front as lower class children. But when Sherlock kept getting kicked out of school, she had no other choice; it was either that or send him to a school in another country.

"The doctors say that Pépé is too ill to travel, and said we should think about letting him stay here. They also gave me a brochure for a Nursing Home. Mémé wants Pépé to come home with her, but the doctors are almost positive that it will not be possible."

"How much long does he have left?"

"Not much, but it could be days, weeks, if we're lucky a few months. But the doctor said he will not last the year."

* * *

_"Mycroft, dear what are you doing?"_

_"I'm packing Mummy!" Said a 5 year old Mycroft who was jumping on his suitcase which was overstuffed with toys and clothes._

_"Why baby? Are you planning on going on a trip?" Said Aithley, laughing as she took Mycroft in her arms. The young boy beamed as he looked up towards his mother._

_"No mummy! For our trip!"_

_"What trip?"_

_"Our trip to France to see Mémé and Pépé!"_

_Aithley Holmes was taken aback; she had just gotten off the phone with her husband. They had gone over the a few details of the trip and were planning around their schedules. How on earth did Mycroft know?_

_"Honey, did you listen in on Mummy phone call? You should know better dear-"_

_"No mummy! You!"_

_"Me?"_

_Aithley saw her son deeply inhale and-_

_"The back of your hair is all ruffed up; you always run your fingers through the back of hair when you talk to daddy. You also had your calendar out and a pen, so you were planning something. I saw you writing towards the end of the month, so you were planning ahead for something. This time of the year daddy likes to take you away on a holiday and leave me with Mrs. Marbles and Mr. Wilson._

_But then you went over to the servant's calendar and wrote a line through the last week of the month, which means that they can take that week off. So that must mean we're all going away. I knew we were going to see Mémé and Pépé because last year at Christmas they said we should get together sometimes. Usual when people say that you give an excuse saying that you don't know when you can take time off, but when Mémé said we should visit them you agreed."_

_Aithley stared at her son with wide eyes."How- What-..."_

_"Pépé taught me how to do that last Christmas! Isn't wonderful mummy!"_

_Aithley gently placed her son on the ground, her hand almost automatically clasped over her mouth. "Mummy, what's wrong?" Mycroft asked with a puzzled expression._

_Why was acting like this? Wasn't what Pépé taught his a good thing? Did mummy not want him to know about the trip?_

_Aithley backed away until she bumped into someone. "Aithley? Dear what's wrong, you looked frightened?" Elliot, who had just gotten back from work, asked when he saw his wife as white as a sheet._

_"Mycroft- he- he just..."_

_Elliot looked over at his son, "Mycroft, do you know what happened?"_

_"I deduced Papa!" Mycroft said happily._

_"Deduced? Whatever do you mean?"_

_Mycroft told his father everything which he told his mother. Needless to say Mr. and Mrs. Homes planned their trip much earlier than they had originally planned. Pépé Collins explained what he had taught Mycroft to his daughter and husband. Elliot Holmes was frightened of Mycroft for a whole week. He expected Mycroft to blurt things out every time he saw him._

_Aithley Holmes, on the other hand, was more accepting of her son's newly found gift. She remembered how people had reacted towards her father and vowed she would never let that happen to her son as well. But even with her past experience with deductions, nothing could prepare her for whenever Mycroft deduced something._

_Although Mr. Holmes, not so gently, asked Pépé not to teach Mycroft about deductions anymore, Mycroft's deduction powers grew more and more. There were many time when Mr. Holmes wanted to yell at his son, but could never find it in his heart t do it._

_By the time Mycroft was nearly eight years old, Mr. Holmes had a new perspective of his son's gift. Instead of being frightened of Mycroft, he thought that his son's gift made him more superior to everyone else. That made Mr. Holmes, because he was the one who raised Mycroft, more superior to everyone else. He knew that Mycroft would one day be a great man, so with all those exceptions, Elliot Holmes made it his personal job to make Mycroft Holmes the greatest man who ever lived._

_But he never took time to try and make him a good one._


	22. Family Matters

"Oh Aithley, where is Sherlock? I haven't seen him other then when we first arrived, is he alright?" Aunt Imogene asked as she sipped her tea by the fireplace.

"With all that's been going on I thought it best he stay over at a friend's house until we can decide what to do with Pépé." Aithley quickly put her cup to her mouth, hoping her sister wouldn't ask any more questions.

"Oh, the poor dear, I know how much he adored Pépé, I hope this whole mess finishes soon. Sherlock would be crushed if he didn't get to say good-bye to Pépé."

Aithley felt her throat closing, she felt guilty. She knew her father didn't have much longer, not only would Sherlock be crushed, but Mycroft would never forgive her if she forced Sherlock away.

Her older brother Lawrence was to inherit their father's fortunes. Although each of the Collins children had their own fortunes, their father was wealthier then all of them combined. Aithley could practically see her brother numbering their father's days.

"I still can't believe how much money father made in the wine making business." Imogene said putting a cube of sugar in her tea.

"Please Imogene, not now."

"Oh Aithley, I know how you feel about talking father's money, but we have to sooner or later! Honestly, you'd think Lawrence would have a little more respect and at _least_ wait until father has passed until he tries to take over the business!"

"What do you mean wait? I thought he wasn't allowed to even touch the money until father died?"

"Well apparently father changed his will."

"He did WHAT!?"

"You did know? Father's wine business is going over to Lawrence, but his fortune is going to...Well..."

"Who!?"

"Half to Mycroft and half to Sherlock."

* * *

Sherlock had stayed three days in a row at John's house. Although he liked spending time away from his house, he grew more and more nervous each day. The last thing he heard was a day ago from Mycroft that Pépé was very ill.

That night Sherlock and John lay in bed together when John heard Sherlock sniffling.

"Sherlock, are you alright?"

Sherlock rolled over, he had tear stains all over his face and his nose was starting to run. "Oh Sherlock!" John pulled his friend into a hug. "J-John, w-what if P-Pépé...I DON'T WANT PÈPE TO DIE!" Sherlock buried his face in John's shoulder. John rubbed in a circle on Sherlock's back, just like Penelope had done when he first woke up after the car crash.

"What's going on in here?" Mrs. Watson had opened John's door and turned on the light.

"...Mummy..." John said in worried voice.

"Oh dear, Sherlock are you alright?" Mrs. Watson took a seat on the bed.

"My- Mycroft s-said my Pépé was r-really I-ill and- and..."

"Oh Sherlock, come here. You poor thing." Mrs. Watson took the small boy in her lap and hugged him. With one hand leaning his head towards her chest, with the other one she rubbed circles just like John had done. As she rubbed his back she spoke calm words into his ear.

"Shh...It's alright, just let out baby...hey, you're okay..." Mrs. Watson looked over to see John with tears threatening to fall. She stopped rubbing and opened an arm out to John. John scrambled over towards his mother and buried his head in the cook of his mother's arm. The three of them sat there until Sherlock had cried himself to sleep and John was beginning to drift off.

"M..Mum..."

"Shhhhh baby, it's late, go to sleep now."

Mrs. Watson watched as John crawled back over towards the pillow and burrowed under his blanket. She lifted up the blanket and placed Sherlock next to John. The two boys curled towards each other, searching for some form of warmth.

Sherlock used John left arm as a pillow as John's right one wrapped around him. Both of Sherlock's arms were curled together and in between the two of them trying to kept warmth. The two boys had their legs tangled together, trying to gather as much heat as possible.

"Mummy..."

"Yes honey?"

"It's cold."

"Go to sleep dear." Mrs. Watson left the room and went and grabbed the blanket off her bed and wrapped the two boys up in it. Mrs. Watson left like crying when she saw John shiver a bit. She had yet to tell her children, they had used up all their oil and it would be another week before they had more. Of course Mrs. Watson could always call the oil company and order more, but it would cost more money, money they didn't have.

For the past three nights Mr. Watson hadn't been home at night, so she wouldn't have to worry about him getting mad about giving the boys their blanket. Harry had been kind enough not to complain about how cold the house was, but Mrs. Watson knew it was only a matter of time before her daughter grew suspicious.

As Mrs. Watson laid down on her bed her slept underneath her sheet. It wasn't enough to keep her warm, but it was something. She looked over at the clock next to her; the alarm was set for 6 a.m. She made sure she had enough time to wake Harry up; make sure she got on the bus and to get the boys up and ready. Mrs. Watson had planned to get another hour or so of sleep before going to work. She was doing an extra shift tomorrow and would be home late. But she remembered they were out of milk and eggs, and tomorrow was Thursday, the one day out of the week she knew she husband would be home.

Mrs. Watson smiled to herself once she remembered that this week her boss had given her Friday and Saturday off. She thought of two ways she could spend them, on Friday she would spend the whole day at home and sleeping in. On Saturday she would take her kids (And Sherlock, if he was still staying at their house) out. Maybe to the zoo? Or perhaps the park? Or Ice cream and then the park?

She would figure that park out later, right now though, she drifted off to sleep.


	23. The Announcement

Mycroft sighed, he had already deduced what his mother was going to say, but unfortunately the rest of his family wasn't as clever and was 'buzzing' with excitement.

That morning at breakfast, Aithley Holmes had asked the family to meet up in the drawing room for a 'special announcement'. While the rest of the family was busy creating and coming up with their own theories, Mycroft could tell by the way his mother's robe was tied, how her messily hair was done, and by her by her smell what she was going to announce.

"You're being extra quiet Mycroft, perhaps you already know what your mother is going to announce and is keeping it from us?" said Ronald.

"It's quite obvious actually, with all the recent events and such. I'm surprised none of you lot have figured it out yet." Replied Mycroft.

The drawing room doors were opened and everyone turned their heads to see Aithley and Esteban walk in. "Everyone, as you all know Pépé has not been well and will not make it to see the next year. It was my wish for him to be there on my wedding. So, I and Esteban have spoken with Pépé and we've decided to get married next week!"

Everyone gasped; most gasps were some followed by beaming smiles. While others, Mycroft's and Aunt Imogene's froze in shock.

"Now, now everybody! Esteban had already set a date and rented out a small church for next year. So because we cannot change that we're going to have a small wedding next week and a larger wedding with a reception next spring! So please, don't go rushing off trying to buy last minute..."

Mycroft didn't stay to listen; he got up and exited the room. He was soon followed by Aunt Imogene, who was having the same thought.

"Mycroft wait!" Imogene yelled as she chased after him.

"I'm sorry Aunt Imogene, but there's somewhere I need to be."

"I know, I'll drive you. Your mother will probably want Mr. Wilson to take her and rest of the family out to celebrate."

 

* * *

Sherlock and John had just finished breakfast and were grabbing their backpacks, about to leave for school. Sherlock had stayed a full week at the Watson, and Mrs. Watson was annoyed. Not at Sherlock, he was like a brother to John and another son to Penelope. No, she was annoyed at Sherlock's family. Other than to drop off more clothes, they had next to no contact. Mrs. Watson was worried that the next black car to pull up would drop off Sherlock's bed, toys, and adoption papers.

The boys had just gotten their backpacks on when there was a knock on the doors. "I'll get it." Harry said and went to open the door.

"Hello, can I help you?" Harry said, not opening the door fully. Harry had not met Mycroft yet, for Mr. Wilson was usual the one to drop Sherlock's things off.

"I'm Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's brother; I need to speak with him."

"Hold on," Harry turned and yelled for her mother. Mrs. Watson rushed over to the door, "Before I let you talk with Sherlock I want to know what's going on. Your family just dumped him at our house for a week with no other explanation other than that your grandfather is ill."

Mycroft nodded, "I understand, if you would let me come in I'll explain everything to you."

Mrs. Watson nodded and led Mycroft and the woman who had just walked up behind him. "Allow me to introduce Mrs. Watson. Mrs. Watson, this is my Aunt Imogene, she and her family have been staying at our house."

Once Mrs. Watson, Mycroft and Imogene were all seated Mycroft explained the situation to Penelope. Mrs. Watson mostly nodded, she understood the pressures of being a single-parent, but that still didn't excuse Mrs. Holmes for taking care of her responsibilities so poorly.

"And I'm guessing you're here to tell Sherlock he's getting a new father in a week then." Mrs. Watson said once Mycroft finished.

"Yes, although I admit to knowing my mother wanted to get married as soon as possible without trying to 'rush it', I was stunned to find she had moved it to next week. I do not blame her for moving it, but still, she has been engaged for less than two weeks and now she's getting married, and to a man who she has been officially together with for less than 6 months. I image they have know each other less than a year or two."

Mrs. Watson blinked in shock, she believed in love at first sight and all, but this was ridicules. How much did Mrs. Holmes really know about this...what was it? Mr. Ricardo? (She had only heard Sherlock say his actual name once) Had Mrs. Holmes even asked her sons how they felt about him? It was obvious Sherlock didn't like him, but what about Mycroft?

And from what Sherlock had said his mother worked so much he barely ever saw her. What would happen after the honeymoon phase was over? How would Mr. Ricardo feel about Mrs. Holmes after a week or so of barely seeing her because of work?

"Might I ask how you feel about all this Mycroft?" Penelope asked curiously, she had a feeling Mycroft's opinion was rarely asked for. Her suspicion was confirmed when Mycroft's eyes widen with surprise.

"Me? Personally I think my whole family is being rather rash and ignorant. My uncle Laurence's own marriage is a perfect example of how rash decisions can ruin your life. My mother knows this yet she is so desperate, not to get married but to have someone to 'share the load', that she is willing to throw herself at the first man she met."

Mrs. Watson smiled, although she might now agree with 'throwing herself at the first man she met' part, Mycroft was certain bright young lad. Mycroft was still a boy, only 17 years old, he was bound to make mistakes and misjudge people.

Although, this time, Mrs. Watson thought he pretty much nailed it.

"Sherlock, please come here for a moment." Mrs. Watson called. Penelope had to hold back a smirk when she saw Mycroft's jaw drop when Sherlock came obediently to her call. " _Yeah, maybe he would listen to you to if you would spend more than 5 seconds a day with him!_ " She thought, and by the look on Aunt Imogene's face, she was thinking the same thing.

 

* * *

After Penelope Watson left Sherlock took her place on the sofa. "Mycroft, have you come to pick me up?"

"Your senses must have dulled brother, deduce it for yourself."

Both of the boys were quiet and only stared at each other. Imogene grew more and more anxious when either boy spoke. After what felt like an eternity to Imogene, but in reality was only a few minutes, Sherlock spoke.

"Mother's getting married."

"Yes, you already knew that. I, personally, think she's been planning-"

"No," Sherlock interrupted, "She's getting married sooner, what next month? Within the next few weeks?"

Mycroft sighed, "Next week."

Sherlock noticeably deflated; as much as Mycroft tried, he could not ignore the tears forming in Sherlock's eyes. It was at this moment when Mycroft realized what living with the Watson's had done to Sherlock. Never in Mycroft's life had he ever thought that Sherlock would ever dare cry in front of him. Crying was weakness in Sherlock's eyes, and for a 7 year old boy, he was very good about not appearing weak in anyone's eyes.

"My, w-what are we going to do?"

Mycroft crumpled; it felt like ages since Sherlock used his nickname. He walked over and took Sherlock in his arms; he tried to cherish the moment. He knew that this could very well be the last time he and Sherlock would ever be this close.

 


	24. The Wedding

"Hi John!"

The boy looked over to see Cathy walking towards their table, "Hi Cathy. Sherlock's not here today; his family is practicing the wedding."

Cathy looked puzzled, "Why do they need to practice a wedding?"

John shrugged, "Sherlock said it's called a rehearsal, it's when you practice something."

Cathy thought for a moment, "You mean like football or practicing being a Ballerina?"

John shook his head, "No, he said it was for things like shows or concerts."

Cathy smiles brightly, "Like the one were having?"

John's eyes widen, he had completely forgot about the concert. Mr. Matthews said they would be learning a new song today! If Sherlock didn't learn the new song he wouldn't be able to sing during the concert! John remembered how excited Sherlock had been when he found out they were having a concert. Sherlock had even said that Mr. Matthews was going to let him play his violin.

John got up from his seat and run to the front desk where Mr. Matthews was taking attendance, "Mr. Matthews, are we learning that new song today?"

Mr. Matthews looked up from his papers and smiled, "Yup! We're going to be learning a song by the Beatles!"

"But we can't! Sherlock's not here today so he won't know it for the concert!"

Mr. Matthews gave John a soft smile, "Don't worry John; we'll be going over it for the next couple of weeks before we have our school's concert. Sherlock's family called me and told me he would be back in school day after tomorrow, so he'll have plenty of time to learn our new song!"

Satisfied, John nodded and left to go back to his table with Cathy.

"Alright Students, everyone seems to be here! Since we're going to be leaning our new song today there's going to be a small change in our schedule. Let's go over today's schedule and then we'll begin."

* * *

"Sherlock, hold still!" Mycroft said for what left like the hundredth time. Their mother wanted a full dress rehearsal, so everyone had to get in their clothes. The only person who didn't have to get fully dressed was their mother. Since the wedding was planned last minute, they couldn't get everyone dresses and tuxes. Sherlock and Mycroft had to where their Christmas suits, while their mother, since one of her jobs happened to be designing clothes, got a real wedding dress.

It was a simple and plain dress, with a sweetheart top and a mermaid fin bottom.

Aunt Imogene was to be the maid of honor and Uncle Wilbert was the best man. The flower girl, and the only young girl in the family, was Lilith.

No matter what Mycroft tried, Sherlock's bow tie didn't seem to want to stay straight. "This is stupid! Why do they need someone to hold the rings anyways! Can't they just put them on a stool or something?"

Mycroft groaned, "As much as I am against mother's rushed marriage, this is a very important day for her. Please, please try and behave?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "And what will I get out of it?"

Mycroft looked Sherlock dead in the eye, "I'll let you experiment with some of my old textbooks?"

"Really?" Sherlock asked unbelievingly

Mycroft sighed, "I'll let you do whatever you wish with them. But only the ones I give you! If I find out you did ANYTHING to the ones I need for school you can say good-bye to those mold samples you've collected."

"All right everyone! Gather around!" called out Aithley, "Okay, Esteban will already be up on the stage, Wilbert and Imogene, you two will walk down together, after them is Sherlock and Lilith- Yes Sherlock, you two have to link arms-. No! Not like that Sherlock, hold your arm out, no like this. Yes, now Lilith will hold your- No Sherlock- Yes, like that. Now- Sherlock who did your tie! It's completely crooked!"

* * *

"John! Sherlock's here!" Mrs. Watson yelled up the stairs from the front door. Penelope was worried; she knew the wedding was today and thought that maybe Sherlock was trying to ditch it.

Not that she would blame him.

"Hey 'Lock! What are you doing here?"

"My mom said if I behaved yesterday at rehearsal I could invite someone to the wedding. So do you think you could come?"

"I don't know, I still got homework-"

John was cut off when Sherlock bent over and threw himself around John's waist. "Oh! Not this again!"

"I'm not letting go till you promise to come with me! I can't stand them! Everyone being all mushy and weird! I'll go nuts if you don't come!"

Mrs. Watson walked in to see the familiar sight. She sighed, "Alright, what does Sherlock want you to do this time?"

"He wants me to go to the wedding with him."

Mrs. Watson smiled fondly, "That sounds like a wonderful idea! What time is the wedding and what time does it go till?"

"It's starts at 3:30; I'm not sure when it ends, but afterwards we're going out to eat. Mycroft will make sure we're back before it gets late! I'll have Mycroft make sure he gets home and everything!"

"Alright," Mrs. Watson said as she ruffed Sherlock's hair. "But I have a better idea: why doesn't John spend the night? It's the weekend so his homework isn't due till Monday."

"Yay!" Sherlock said as he released John.

* * *

Mrs. Watson was washing the dishes when she heard the front door open. The hard metal boots made loud thumps on the hardwood as Clint walked though the house. "Evening love," he said as he wrapped his arms around Penelope's waist.

"Hello darling, how was work?"

"Fine. Did the oil man come today?"

"Yes, the man came and left; he said that we should be receiving the bill in a few days or so."

Clint made a humming sound as he kissed his wife's shoulder, "What did you make for dinner?"

"Pork Chops, if that's what you want."

Clint buried his face in the crook of his wife's neck, "It's fine, I'm starved. Want me to help set the table?"

"Yes, that would be a big help. Harry's with Clara and John's over at Sherlock's, his mother is getting married."

"Ah, so it will just be you and me tonight?"

"Yes, just you and me."


	25. The Moments We Treasure

Mrs. and Mr. Watson lay curled up on their couch watching a movie. They had a blanket covering them and the lights were turned off. With the oil tank filled, the house became warm again. On the coffee table in front of them their plates lay covered with the scraps of food.  
Penelope's head lay on her husband's chest, their feet entangled and Clint's hand carding through her auburn hair.

"When's Harry due home?" Clint asked as the credits started playing. Penelope looked up at the clock on the wall."In about a half an hour, Clara's mom said she'd bring her home."

Clint only nodded, "And John?"

"Spending the night at Sherlock's."

Clint nodded again. "Come on, let's go to bed love."

* * *

_Penelope Mills walked down the grocery aisle looking for her usual cereal. She gave a weary sigh; they had moved the aisles around again. She hated it when they moved everything around, what was once the cereal aisle was now the soup aisle._ _After searching for couple of minutes she found the correct aisle._ _"I swear they do this to me on purpose!" She said out loud to herself._

_"It seems that way doesn't it!" said a man's voice from behind._ _Penelope turned around to see a man looking at the kid's cereal next to her, "It's a lot worse when you have kids with you. Trust me, once I was looking for the aisle with the cleaning fluids and ended up on the candy aisle. Took me a full ten minutes till I was finally able to drag my kids away from the chocolate bars."_

_Penelope gave a small laugh, "I can imagine! Same thing happened with me and my niece!"_

_The man gave a pleasant laugh, "Got any kids of your own?"_

_"No, just a niece and a nephew."_

_"Oh, I got two of my own, a boy and girl, one's five the other is thirteenth, and I swear they come from two different worlds! They're quite a handful!"_

_"Do they get along?"_

_"They have their moments, but usually they're off on their own. John, he's five, mostly just plays alone is his room. I'm worried, but he's starting preschool next year so hopefully that will help."_

_"And your daughter?"_

_"Harriet, she's a tomboy, so I guess that helps her relate more to John, but she sees herself as the one in charge and the boss of him." The man laughed fondly, "I still remember on time when I came home from work to find John coloring in a coloring book on the floor with Harry's feet resting on his back!"_

_The two laughed together merrily. Penelope had to admit, it had been quite some time since had a good laugh, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be babbling on and on about my family to a total stranger; you've probably got things to do-"_

_"No, no! It's fine, actually my entire week is clear! I just moved into town and I don't start work till next week! I just moved here from Devon, I'm staying with my sister till I can find my own place. That's sorta why I'm here, I was bored to tears at home and practically begged her for something to do!"_

_"Why'd ya move? Oh, I'm Clint by the way." Clint had blonde hair and blue eyes, he was quite broad and was strongly built. Just by looking at him you could tell he had some kind of hard laboring job like a constructive worker or a fireman or perhaps a policeman? Penelope got a better feel of his calloused hands as they shook._

_"Penelope, well her husband just died and, well, I didn't want to leave her alone. Jack made her so happy, she was crushed when she woke up and found out Jack didn't make it. Oh sorry, they were in a terrible car crash; my sister was lucky and was only out for a few hours. Jack, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky and was killed on impacted."_

_"I completely understand, I lost my Clara five years ago; I still can't believe she's gone. We were so excited, she was practically glowing when she found out she was pregnant with a boy," Clint said sadly; the poor man looked completely crushed. Penelope's motherly instincts took over and it took all her will power not to pull the man into her arms and comfort him._

_"Oh you poor thing. Was she young?"_

_"Yes, she had just turned twenty-four. We married young, both her parents were dead and my father had gambled all his money away, my mother left when I was only a child. We wanted to start anew, so we ran away to London together, got married, and started a family. It wasn't until Harry was born when we realized all the issues we were going to face. So we decided not to have any more kids till we were more stable."_

_Penelope smiled sweetly at Clint, "Well, you two sounded like you were both really in love."_

_"Yeah, we were. Look, I've already taken up so much of your time; at least let me buy you a drink."_

_Penelope smiled a little brighter, "I would like that very much Clint."_

_"Please, it would be my pleasure."_

* * *

Harry and Clara sat on the floor of Clara's bedroom painting their nails. When the two girls would get together, they would mostly talk about the normal things: parties, the latest gossip at school, and their celebrity crushes. But one thing that Harry began to notice was that neither of them ever talked about boys. Sure, they would talk about actors and male singers or gossip about boys. But they would never talk about boys they liked.

"Okay, so I was talking with Kimberly today, and she said that there was a secret party at Melissa's place this weekend. It's open-invite so you can only go if you know someone who is already going!"

"Whoa...We should totally go!" Harry said, nearly messing up the middle finger on her right hand. Harry, unlike her brother, was right-handed, so painting with her left hand was quite hard.

"Yeah, only one problem: it's at Melissa's place, and you know what that means."

Harry groaned, "It means two things, actually. It means Derrick will be there, and he'll probably end up inviting some geek over to make fun of him." Harry sighed, "He is so immature."

"Oh okay, I can't believe I forgot to tell you this but...Nadia Carlson got tickets to see Abba!"

"WHAT!? I thought they were sold out!"

"So did I! And from what Betty said, she has one extra ticket! The rumor going around is that she was going to take Jesse but-"

"But what? Oh my gosh, did they break up? Again?"

"Yeah, but it's 'cause apparently Jesse likes someone else."

"Who? It's Margret isn't it? I knew that little witch was trying to impress someone that time when she-"

"It's you."

Harry's head snapped up to look Clara dead in the eye, "Me?"

"Yeah, Betty said that Jessie keeps watching you in class and stuff. She said that she saw him even follow you to your locker once!"

"Really? I never saw anything!"

"Yeah, so, what ya' gonna do?" Clara asked as she began putting the nail polish away. "I don't know, I've been in a situation before. Guys aren't usually interested in me," Harry said as she looked at her dark green finger nails, "I suppose I should at least talk to him; it could just be some rumor Betty heard."

"Yeah, I suppose. But do you like him?" Clara asked as she moved from the floor to her bed.

"I- I don't know, I never really thought about him much. I suppose not."

"Hmmmm, well then maybe you shouldn't talk to him. Ya know, and it would be like a movie, you know where like the guy keeps admiring the girl from afar."

Harry laughed, "Yeah, now all I need is some cheesy love song and title." Harry stood up and plopped down on the bed. The two girls stretched out next to each other.

Harry looked over at her friend, she laughed when she saw that Clara had already fallen asleep. Harry had always wondered why she and Clara were friends; they were both so different. Clara liked dresses, singing, and pink, while Harry liked tees and jeans, dancing and green or black. Clara reminded Harry a lot of her mother. Heck, they both shared the same name! Maybe it was because Clara looked over Harry like a mother, or perhaps it was a whole 'opposites attract' thing. But whatever it was, Harry was glad she had Clara.

* * *

John and Sherlock hid underneath one of the tables at the restaurant. Mrs. Holmes had rented out a whole side room for the celebration and there were plenty of extra tables in the rooms.

"How long do think it will take Mycroft to notice we're gone?" asked John as he shifted from a crouching position to sitting on his legs.

"Wait...5...4...3...2...1...-"  
They both heard someone (Mycroft) sigh heavily and then say, "Mother, where are Sherlock and John?"

"I don't know dear. I thought you were looking after them?"

"No! Why would I- never mind, I'll find them."  
The two boys cupped their hands over their mouths as they giggled. John peeked his head out from the tablecloth to see if Mycroft has spotted them yet. As he did he felt someone pull on his shirt, "No John! He'll see you!"

But it was too late; Mycroft spotted the boy and was now walking over towards their table, "Just once, could you two behave like grown ups?!"

The two boys giggled from under the table, still covered by the tablecloth. "I wouldn't hold out too much for hope!" John called out, which only made the boy's giggles turn into real laughter. The laughter soon caught the attention of the guests from the main table. Ronald and Harold were the first notice; next Lilith and Arthur were looking over towards the small two-person table in the corner. So nearly everyone at the main table was looking over to the small table Mycroft was standing next to. Aithley glared at her son to fix the situation.

"Sherlock Holmes, either you come out or I'm coming in!"

"Oh please, My! You're too fat! You wouldn't fit!"  
Mycroft heard snickers coming from the main table and turned to see everyone looking at him, and Ronald and Harold snickering to themselves.

"Sherlock, you come out or I'll- I'll I'll-"

"You'll what? Sit on me?"  
This caused even a few of the adults to laugh, but a quick death glare from Aithley hushed them.

"Sherlock, come out or I'll see to it you won't do any experiments for two weeks!"

"You can't do that! I'm going to dad's next week. You can't do anything to me there!" Sherlock yelled out.

" 'Lock, maybe you should stop now..." John whispered to Sherlock. The boy looked questionably at his friend, that's when he realized that most of the adults at the main table were having a hard time controlling their laughter. Sherlock peeked out to see that his mother had now come over.

"Mycroft, take Sherlock and John home, we'll sort this out later. Sherlock, I don't want to hear one word from you. I am very disappointed with both of you. Am I understood?"

"Yes Ma'am."


	26. Constant Worries

"Sherlock, why don't you like Mr. Ricardo?" John asked as they sat on Sherlock's bed. It was only a few days earlier when John learned Esteban's real name and got Sherlock in trouble for calling him a type of cheese.

"Because he takes up all Mummy's time and makes her act all weird."

"What do you mean? Your mummy seems to act normal to me."

"No she doesn't! Ever since he started staying here she's been punishing me more and acts all different. Mummy used to not care what I did or how I did something, but now she acts likes everything I do is bad!"

John tilted his head in confusion, "What sort of things does she think is bad?"

"A few days ago she got mad at me for eating my broccoli with my hands, or she gets mad at me for bringing dead frogs in the house, and yesterday she even had Dina throw out all my dead butterflies!"

"The ones whose wings you were studying?"

"Yeah! I had to sneak my microscope into the library and have Mr. Wilson bring me there just so I could find the difference between a Viceroy butterfly and a Monarch butterfly!"

"Hmmm...I don't know Sherlock; I don't know much mum stuff. Perhaps your grandma knows, we should ask her! She is, after all, your mum's mum!"

"Grandma? Grandma is my dad's mum; we don't talk to her anymore. My mum's mum is Mémé."

"Alright then, let's ask her!...After your mum speaks with you, that is..."

Sherlock groaned, "She'll probably be out all night and completely forget in the morning!"

It was already way past John's bedtime, and Sherlock was getting tired of waiting on his mother. So both boys decided to get ready for bed and head over to the guest room where they stayed when John stayed over.

Sherlock looked over at the clock; it was past 11 o'clock. He then looked over at John; he was in lying on his bed asleep. Sherlock sighed, he decided his mother wasn't coming and it was time he went to bed as well. He creeped out of his bed and went to check on Mycroft.

Sherlock padded across the hall and down to his brother's room, "My, is Mummy home yet?"

Mycroft sighed and looked up to his little brother from his book, "No Sher, just go ahead and get into bed. If she's going to talk with you it'll have to be in the morning, though I highly doubt it."

Sherlock turned to leave but stopped and turned once more to his brother, "My, why is Mummy so different now?"

Mycroft sighed once more, "It's hard to explain. Mummy's so used to being a mum for so long it's hard for her to be both a mummy and wife at the same time. It's going to take a while for her to get used to it."

"How long? And why is it hard for her? She was Dad's wife and our mummy before."

"Yes, but now it's different. Mummy and Daddy made a lot of mistakes, and Mummy doesn't want to make those same mistakes again."

Sherlock was confused; he remembered being told about what had happened between his mother and father, and how it was wrong for Father to be with another woman while he was married to Mummy. But no one had ever said Mummy had done something wrong. Wasn't it Father's fault?

"But- but I thought...They said Father-..."

Mycroft could see where his brother was headed, "No, Father shouldn't have done what he did, but Mummy wasn't being the wife and mother she should have been. Mother and Father hardly saw each other and we barely ever saw them as well. Mummy should have tried to make time to spend with us. She let other things get in the way and didn't try and fix them."

"So...it wasn't only father's fault?"

"No, but that doesn't justify what Father did. He should have spoken to Mother and tried to fix the problem. Instead he ran away and decided to end it all."

Sherlock only nodded and turned and left the room.

* * *

Mycroft left horrible; Sherlock was only 7 years old. You shouldn't have to explain to a 7 year old why their parents had gotten a divorce, or why their mother acts different now that she's with someone else. Mycroft knew that Sherlock understood that their parents didn't love each other anymore, but he was clueless on how to explain that their mother loved someone else now.

Mycroft was worried how this would affect Sherlock as he grew. Sherlock lived in a world where everyone tried to love him to make up for the love his father denied him. How would he take it when he grew up and no longer lived in that world? Sherlock would eventually grow up and move out. He would make his own world and find out that the world is a cold place where everyone wore a mask and gave out fake illusions of what they believed to be love.

He was worried that when Sherlock found all this out his would be disgusted and would never learn how to care for someone or to learn to love someone.

Caring was not an advantage, it gave you a weakness that anyone could use against you. Loving someone was even worse, it not only gave you a weakness, but changed you mentally.

Their father had told him that, Mycroft was unfortunately more like his father. He knew how to be calm and cool and seem uncaring towards the world. Sherlock was more like their mother; she needed someone to care for her, someone to keep her grounded. She used her emotions to manipulate people, but could very easily get caught up in her own feign and fool herself into thinking it was real.

* * *

The day of the wedding came and went and everyone seemed to move with their life. All the Holmes uncles, aunts and cousins returned home. The only ones who stayed were Mémé and Pépé. Just as Sherlock and Mycroft predicted, with all the excitement their mother forgot about having their little 'talk' and life went on just as it had.

It was now the middle of November, and the wind was forceful and cold.

Ever since their Mémé and Pépé started staying with them, Sherlock and Mycroft tried to spend as much time with them as they could. Every day when Sherlock would come home from school, he would go down the hall to the room where his Mémé and Pépé were staying and tell his Pépé everything he had learned at school.

In the evening when his mummy and Mémé would spend time talking on the couch, Sherlock would sit with his Pépé as he taught Sherlock more about deducing.

As routine, when Sherlock came home from school he went down to the room where his Pépé was lying in bed.

"Pépé! I'm home!"

"Ah! Sherlock! Come closer! Tell me everything that has been going through that magnificent mind of yours!"

Sherlock climbed onto the bed and sat next to his Pépé, who put his arm around Sherlock cuddled him closer, "Today in class I finally figured out why Davy never talks about his father! I don't think he knows who his father is!"

"Oh, how did you come to figure that?"

"Because, today we were writing sentences about our family. And as I went over to sharpen my pencil and I saw none of his sentences were about his dad! If he knew who his father was he would have said something about him!"

"Yes, that is true Sherlock, but what if his father is dead? He still might know him, just not want to talk about him."

"That's what I thought too! But then I noticed when Sally was talking about her dad Davy seemed almost confused. If his knew his dad he would have probably been sad, but because he lives with his mum he's used to his mum doing everything. So when Sally spoke about her dad he was confused 'cause all things her dads does are the things Davy's mum does for him!"

"Excellente, Sherlock! You are getting better each day!" Pépé said in his French accent, "Now tell, how is your friend, John?"

"He's fine, his mummy said that their family is going pumpkin picking tomorrow. I asked Mycroft and he said he would take me pumpkin picking some time as well, if I get all A's on my report card, that is."

"Don't fret Sherlock! I'm sure you will do fine! Now tell me, what else did you learn in class?"

Sherlock was in the middle of telling his Pépé about how they had begun learning how to add with multiple numbers. John was having a little bit of trouble with adding 5+15. He was just about to tell his Pépé about the school concert that was to take place in a few days, when his mother came in.

"Sherlock! What have I told you about bothering Pépé!He was just about to tell his Pépé about the school concert that was to take place in a few days when his mother came in.

"Sherlock! What have I told you about bothering Pépé! He needs to rest and you talking to him will only exhaust him!"

"Oh please, Aithley! I know I'm not as young as I used to be, but it's terribly boring staying in here all day! A friendly visit from my grandson isn't going to kill me!"

"Hush Papa, I've brought you some soup to eat. Sherlock, go run along now, Pépé needs his rest."

* * *

Sherlock lay on his bed; his mother made him practice the song they would be singing for the school concert and was getting quite tired. Sherlock was beginning to doubt whether or not his mother would actually come or not. It was his first concert so yes, normally he would think his mother would come. But Sherlock heard his mother talking on the phone last night about some business trip, so now he was starting to doubt.

Since it was a school concert, Sherlock's class would not be the only ones performing. The 2nd and 3rd graders would be coming out together to sing 'Yellow Submarine', then the 4th and 5th graders would be playing something on actual instruments.

Since they were the Elementary school, they would be performing on the first night. The Middle Schoolers would be performing the second night and have more songs than the Elementary school.

Sherlock never really liked how the school was built. Since the Elementary and Middle schools were connected they would many times have to share bathrooms, lunchrooms, classrooms, ect. Sherlock would never forget the time when Mr. Matthews took a small group to go to the bathroom and they bumped into a middle schooler.

Sherlock deduced the kid was in the 7th grader, had two older brothers, and an alcoholic mother. Unlike most of the kids Sherlock deduced, the boy yelled at him to 'piss off' and almost shoved him. Fortunately, Mr. Matthews stepped in and had the kid sent to the principal's office.

Sherlock sat up and was about to start something with his chemist set when he heard a woman's scream come from downstairs.


	27. A Shoulder to Cry On

Sherlock raced out of his room and was about to run down the stairs when he was met by Mycroft.

"My, what's going on?" Sherlock said in a nervous voice.

"Nothing Sherlock, just go back upstairs to your room and wait for one of us to come get you, okay?" Mycroft said as he shooed his little brother back towards his room. As Mycroft pushed Sherlock back around the corner Sherlock heard crying from the first floor.

"My, who's crying? What's going on, is someone hurt?"

Mycroft managed to get him and Sherlock in Sherlock's room and shut the door behind them. He got down on one knee and knelt in front of Sherlock, looking him straight in the eye.

"Okay, listen to me Sher, yes something happened. No, I will explain later, in a little while some people from the hospital are going to come here, alright? I need you to stay in your room until told otherwise. You might hear a lot of noises and stuff, but you need to just stay calm and stay in here and out of the way, alright?"

Sherlock, only being 7 years old, was scared. He nodded and sniffed, struggling to keep the tears that threatened to fall. Mycroft gave Sherlock a hug, got up and felt the room.

Once Mycroft was gone Sherlock climbed onto his bed and grabbed his stuffed Bumble Bee and hugged is close to him. "It's going to be alright Wiggins, if Mycroft said it's going to be alright than it's going to be alright! You'll see!"

* * *

Mycroft had been in the library looking for a book on the First World War for an essay due at school. He sat in the chair by the fireplace looking through the book when he heard a scream.

He came out to find his mother standing in front of the room to the guest room where Pépé and Mémé were staying. His mother had a hand clasped over her mouth and looked like she was about to faint.

In a matter of seconds he heard Esteban order Dina to call for an ambulance and his Mémé come rushing over to handle his mother. Knowing Sherlock heard his mother's scream he run to get him before he came down to find his Pépé unconscious.

* * *

"Collins Family"

Aithley, her mother and Esteban stood up when they heard the nurse call for them. "Dr. Yaz will see you now."

Dr. Yaz had been the Holmes doctor since Aithley came down with an illness a week after she moved to England. He had been there for both Mycroft and Sherlock's births and had given them all their check-ups and treated them when they were sick. If there was anyone Aithley trusted with her father it was Dr. Yaz.

The nurse stayed silent the whole time and led them to Dr. Yaz's office.

"Aithley Holmes," Dr. Yaz greeted them as he stood.

"Please Dr. Yaz, please cut the small talk and just tell me how he is."

Dr. Yaz visibly deflated, "I'm sorry Mrs. Holmes, but your father didn't make it. He was already dead when we got him here; there was nothing we could do."

* * *

Ironically enough it wasn't the illness that killed him, Mr. Wilson phoned Mycroft from the hospital as soon as he heard.

Pépé Collins had died from a stroke.

* * *

Aithley and Esteban were in their room and asked to not be disturbed.

Mémé had locked herself in the guestroom and asked not to be disturbed.

Mycroft was calling their relatives telling them about Pépé's passing.

Mrs. Marbles was cooking dinner.

Dina was out buying groceries for when the guests would be arriving for Pépé's funeral.

Mr. Wilson was the one who drove Dina.

Sherlock was scared and alone, he didn't know who to go to, or where to do, or what he was suppose to do. Mycroft has been had been busy helping Dina clean the mess his mother made by dropping the tray she was bring to Pépé when the phone rang. Mr. Wilson, assuming it was Mycroft who picked up, went straight ahead and blurted out that Pépé was dead.

* * *

John Watson had just finished up his homework when he heard the doorbell ring. He waited a couple of minutes to see if his Mother or Harry was going to open the door. When neither of them came John started to debate whether or not he should open the door. Mummy had always said to never open the door, but what if it was package? Or what if it was the nurse from the nursing home here about grandma?

John went over to the window next to the door and looked out it to see if he see who was at the door. John gasped and open the door.

"Sherlock! You didn't run away again, did you?"

"N-n-...no..."

Sherlock's eyes were red and puffy; his face was stained with tear trails. John looked and saw that the edges of Sherlock's sleeves were wet as well.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?"

Sherlock ran towards his friend and clung onto him. "P-P-Pépé's…..GONE!" John embraced his dark curly headed friend and as he did Sherlock started sobbing. John managed to maneuver Sherlock over towards his couch just in time before Sherlock went limp in his arms and continued sobbing.

Mrs. Watson, hearing the noise, came hurrying down the stairs. "John are you alright I hear-" She stopped mid sentence when she saw John cradling Sherlock who was crying like a new born baby.

* * *

After crying for almost a half an hour straight, Mrs. Watson and John were able to calm Sherlock down enough for him to tell them what had happened. Exhausted from crying, Sherlock eventually fall asleep in John's arms.

Seeing this, Mrs. Watson stood up and rang the Holmes house. The first few times she called she was met with a busy signal. But finally, one her fourth try, Mycroft was able to reach her.

"Hello?"

"Yes hello, this is Mrs. Watson, I'm calling about Sherlock."

"What about him?"

"He- what do you mean 'What about him'?! He just showed up at my house and cried himself to sleep in my son's arms! Are you telling me you didn't notice he was gone?!"

*Sigh* "I'm sorry Mrs. Watson, I've been busy almost all day calling my relatives about my Pépé's-"

"Yes, Yes I know! But you didn't even think for a second to stop and take care of your own sibling before your relatives?! Mycroft I know these past few months have been very trying times for you and your brother, but I really think your family needs to have a talk. As much as I love Sherlock you can't just keep dumping here every time something-"

"From what you have told me Sherlock went himself to your house, 'we' did not dump him-"

"Damn Mycroft you know what I mean!"

John gasped, he never heard Penelope swear before. Harry always said that the worst word she probably ever said was 'hell', Penelope would even yell at Harry if something on the Telly swore! To hear her swear was like seeing 6 foot cat wearing a red and white striped hat!

"Sherlock can't keep running to us because he's 'family' is too scared to take responsibility themselves! I understand **_you're_** doing all you can to be an older brother for Sherlock, but he's needs parents as well! Your mother needs to get her head out of the clouds and take care of her son!"

"I understand, I'll talk with her as soon as I can. Would you like me to pick Sherlock up now?"

"That would probably be best; he needs his family right now. I worry about him Mycroft, if your family doesn't show him the love and support he needs he may grow up to be depended on ours."

"I understand, I'll be there shortly."

* * *

"What's going to happen now mummy?" John said as he tried not to move, for Sherlock was using him as a pillow.

"Right now Sherlock needs to be with his family. It's more of a question if they're going to be there for him."


	28. The Funeral

It had been three days since Pépé had his stroke. Mummy Holmes and Mémé Collins planned to have the funeral the next day. They were currently in the drawing room talking with Aunt Imogene, Uncle Wilbert and Uncle Lawrence. The matters of the will had yet to be dissolved. Apparently Uncle Lawrence wasn't too pleased with the arrangement.

"I'm the oldest! The fortune should go to me! It has been a tradition that has been kept for generations!" Lawrence barked angrily as he rammed his glass of whiskey down.

"Lawrence! Please keep your voice down! The children are sleeping!" Aithley whispered loudly. "It was Pépé's last wish that Mycroft and Sherlock had provisions of their own. Mycroft is turning 18 next month and will be going away to Oxford next year. He will undoubtedly use the money for University. Both Pépé and Mycroft already spoke about it; a friend of Pépé's already got Mycroft a dorm, made sure Mycroft got the classes he wanted, and so on. It's too late to try to fight for the money, Lawrence! You should be content with Pépé's business, because that is all you are getting!"

Lawrence took a swig of his whiskey, his scowling face grew darker. But even through the scowl, a toothy smile made an appearance, "That's not entirely true, Aithley."

Everyone turned and had to hold back their gasps, even though Lawrence was the oldest, none of them ever dared talk back to Aithley.

"The will clearly states that if any of the persons who receive any portions of the fortune can be denied the money or have the money withdrawn from them at anytime if the person uses any of the money irresponsibly or inappropriately. The money would be put into the old bank account, which happens to be under Pépé's business's name."

"Well, then it's a good thing that Mycroft will be using it for University and Sherlock won't even be touching the money for another 10 years or so."

The tension in the room grew until it was uncomfortable.

It was cut by Wilbert who, although he never shared his complaints, was always annoyed with their sibling rivalry, "Yes, alright, so besides the money and business, what else does the will state? You would not keep us up this late unless we all had something relevant with the matter."

Aithley cleared her voice, "Yes, well, as you all know the money was cut into three portions: one for Mycroft, one for Sherlock, and the rest to Mémé. Mémé will also be getting the manor in Paris and the other summer house in Italy. Most of Pépé items such as his clothes, jewelry, and smaller items have been given to Mémé to do with as she pleases. Mémé has already spoken with me, and has decided that she will be splitting up Pépé's jewelry, watches, and other items between us. But there are a few items that Pépé had specifically asked to be inherited by certain persons."

The rest of the night was passed by with Aithley reading off the will about 'Who-Gets-What' and so forth.

* * *

It was around three in the morning and Sherlock still could not sleep. That night had been the wake and Sherlock couldn't get the image of his Pépé's stilled body out of his head.

Although only the family and very close friends were invited, Sherlock knew his Pépé would have hated it. Everyone wore black _( Pépé always liked bright colors, his favorite was grass green)_ , they cried _(Pépé always tried to make people laugh)_ and gave long boring speeches _(Pépé would always fall asleep during speeches or would sneak away to the table with the food on it)._

After what Sherlock counted to be the 47th time he turned, Sherlock got up and padded down the hall. He walked down to the last door and raised his hand to knock, but hesitated and froze, his fist in mid-air. He waited a full ten minutes until he heard someone speak.

*Sigh* "I know you're there Sherlock, might as well come in."

Sherlock slowly turned the door handle and made sure only his head peered into the room.

"Sher, what is it? Why are you still up at...3:17?"

"My, c-can I sleep...with you...?" Sherlock all but mumbled.

Mycroft groaned, "Fine! But you'd better not steal all my sheets again!"

With a hidden smile, Sherlock climbed up onto his brother's bed and settled himself under the feathered comforter. They both had been lying for about another ten minutes before Sherlock slowly drifted off to sleep.  
His eyes were drooping shut, only to shoot open when he heard his brother snoring. With a groan Sherlock buried his head under the pillows and burrowed himself a type of hole with a small opening for air.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Alright everyone, take your seats! Alright, let's see...Alice...Louis...Clay...Alright everyone's here, so let's get started!"

It was then that one of the boys raised his hand. "Yes, Clay, do you have a question?"

"Aren't there suppose to be three people at the blue table?"

"Ah, yes! Thank you for pointing that out, Clay. Yes, as some of you may have noticed Sherlock isn't here today. This is because, unfortunately, one of his relatives passed away a few days ago and he's going to their funeral."

A little girl named Heather now raised her hand, "Mr. Matthews, what's a funeral?"

"An excellent question, Heather! A funeral is when people gather together to celebrate a person's life once they , the person is placed inside a box that is either opened or closed. People come and say stuff about the person and give speeches and say how much they're going to miss the person. Sometimes the family has the body burnt and the ashes put in a box. After the service, the family and close friends of the person go to a graveyard and say one last good-bye to the person. Afterwards they sometimes have food and spend time together."

Most of the children just nodded; a funeral seemed like a very serious thing. Usually, after they learned something new they would discuss it among themselves, but a funeral seemed very adultish - much too serious for children to understand.

* * *

Sherlock wanted to laugh once he heard his Uncle Lawrence's speech. Lawrence went on to talk about how great his father was, how he was always a role model for him, and how much he was going to miss him. Everyone who knew Lawrence knew him to be greedy, selfish and a coward, but to the rest of the world he was a grieving son had just lost the most important man in his life.

_Liar._

Uncle Wilbert, though he tried his hardest to not stray from the truth, spoke about how his father wasn't just his dad, but also his best friend. This made Sherlock angry; he knew that after Wilbert moved out of his father's house, the only times he spoke with him were Christmas and birthdays. Wilbert knew this was because he was the youngest and was always babied. He and his father grew apart over the years he was away at University. To those who knew him he was busy man with almost no time for his own pleasures, much less his own family. But to the world, he was a man who had just lost his best friend.

_Liar._

Aunt Imogene told as much truth as possible with anyone getting suspicious. As a teen she fought often with her father, they disagreed on almost every subject. Although she did try and stay in contact with her family, many holidays were passed with fights and empty harsh words. Everyone always thought out of all the children in the Collins family she was the Daddy's girl, but they couldn't be more wrong. But to the world she was a woman who had just lost the person she was closest to.

_Liar._

Aithley had actually told the truth when she said that she always knew her father to be the most honorable and respectful man she ever knew. She horribly lied when she said that she always listened to her father and took his counsel as if it were gospel. Even though they never fought, Aithley always thought her father was old fashioned and out of date on nearly everything he spoke on. She could still remember the day when she came home and told her parents about her engagement to Elliot. While her mother ecstatic, her father was less than pleased. Although he said that Elliot was a kind and loving man, he was also a coward and if she desired a family she should not make one with him. Everyone knew Aithley to be secretive and unrealistic. But to the world she was a woman who lost the wisest man she ever knew.

_Liar._

* * *

After the funeral, his Pépé's body buried in the ground, and everyone returned home with their bellies full was when Sherlock thought everything over.

Sherlock came to the conclusion that when he died, he did not want a funeral. He would ask the person whom he was closest to that they would bury him somewhere secret, somewhere nobody else knew. He would ask them to give a small, short speech that only spoke truth, and that; if possible, they say their speech to him before he died. He would also ask them one last favor:

To remember him.


	29. The Cycle

She really should have seen this coming, the being gone for days, only sticking around for small portions at a time, the sudden affection; it was all part of the cycle.

Clint Watson worked as a manager of a power company, the same power company the Watsons' got their power from.

Mrs. Watson knew all about the cycle of an abuser; as soon as she began to suspect Clint of one she quickly looked up as much as she could. So when she saw the signs of a new cycle starting it really shouldn't have surprised her.

But none the less, it did every time.

It hadn't been that long ago since their oil tank was refilled, and with Clint being gone every few days they should have had more oil left.

But it all began to make sense.

On the days Clint was home; the house was warm with heat, they had plenty of hot water, and all the lights worked fine.

But on the days when Clint would disappear the heating system would suddenly stop working, IF they had water it was cold, and for some reason their fuse box would suddenly go out.

Penelope understood the message Clint was sending loud and clear. He was afraid that she would leave, or perhaps go to the police. But he was making it clear that they would not survive without him

So when she went to the store to buy food it shouldn't have surprised her to find their bank account was frozen.

But nevertheless, it did.

* * *

 

All the children at the school were out of their seats and standing by the windows watching. Despite the teachers protest, they had their small faces pressed up against the windows which made their breath fog up the glass.

It was the first snow of the year.

But even with all the excitement there was still a little worry among the children. Because of the sudden snow there was talk of outside recess being moved inside.

This was not acceptable in the very least.

Both Cathy and John were among the children looking at the windows. John had asked Sherlock to join them, but he declined saying that there were too many idiots over there and that they might lower his IQ. After saying that, John grew confused and asked him what an IQ was. Once Sherlock explained when an IQ was John playfully smacked him and told him to stop being a poshy pants.

"Whoa...Oo Oo! Look at that one, John! It's huge!" Cathy said as she pointed to a snowflake.

"Yeah! And that one! It's a bunch of snowflakes clumped together!"

"I wish they'd let us outside..." Cathy said in her hushed voice.

"Yeah, but a lot of the parents didn't know it was going to snow, so some of the kids aren't dressed for it. Mr. Matthews said it wasn't fair to let only some of the kids outside while the others had to stay inside."

"Alright everyone, back to your seats!" Mr. Matthews called out as he began grabbing some papers from his desk. "Clay, Peterson, that means you two as well! I hope everyone made sure to bring their homework! As you can see everyone, it's snowing out, so unfortunately we won't be having our usual playtime outside. Instead, we've been asked by the 4th grade class to help them out with their class pet! Today the class went out to a museum and need someone to help take care of Freddy their pet hamster!"

Little voices of excitement soon filled the room. Ever since Ethan Green's older brother told him about their class pet Ethan and few other students had been begging for a class pet of their own.

"Annnnnnnd," Mr. Matthews stretched out to get their attention back, "IF, and this is a very big if, you all are able to handle taking care of Freddy, Principal Morse agreed to let us get our own!"

* * *

 

"You can't be serious!" Mycroft said with his eyes wide, it seemed his mother had missed the whole the point of them having this conversation.

"Mycroft, please do try and understand. With my business blooming, I'm going to have to move my office from working at home to an actual office building. And since Esteban has a stable job that makes a good amount of money, I don't need to be working a second job anymore. I'm selling my newspaper company to a friend of mine."

"You don't get it! The whole reason you wanted to start working from home is so you could spend more time with us! Between Mr. Ricardo and your work, both now in an office and your trips around the world, how much time do you think you're going to have to spend on your own?"

Mrs. Holmes sighed, "I know Mycroft, I really do, and that's why I'm hiring a nanny. With you going off to University someone is going to need to be here for Sherlock. Esteban said he'd try and be here as much as he can, but both his family and work are out of the country. If this is going to work, we all need to make some compromises."

Mycroft groaned, "Yes, I get that, but it seems like everyone is making them except for you! Every decision you've made so far has been selfish and only for your gain! Mrs. Watson had to call me up because Sherlock went to them to be comforted! That should have been us he went to! And now you're hiring someone to take care of Sherlock because you won't even try to?! You're no better than father!"

"Don't you dare compare me to him, Mycroft! I'm actually trying to make this work! I don't expect you to understand. Whether you like it or not, you're still a child Mycroft. I didn't want to hire her so soon, but since you decided to take that tour of the University-"

"Don't try and change the subject, Mother! This is not about me, this is about you! Sherlock knows, and has taken it very well, that I have to leave for University. But what you cannot expect him to understand is why his mother keeps running away from him because she doesn't know what to do with him!"

"Mycroft Holmes, you watch your tongue! You are forgetting that I lived with your Pépé; he too had your talents of deducing. I knew how to get along with him, I know how to get along with you, and I can certainly get along with Sherlock!"

"But that's just it isn't it? Sherlock is different, it's why you've always either coddled him or been completely indifferent towards him!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Mycroft!" Mrs. Holmes said as she stood abruptly.

"No! I know exactly what I'm talking about! Both Pépé and I understand things better than Sherlock; we process them in our heads and think about what we say and how it will affect others! We understand emotions and how they make people work! Sherlock doesn't, he's been alone so long that he doesn't understand emotions! And now that you've noticed that you don't know what to do-"

"Stop this now Mycroft!"

"-But you see, that's where you're wrong! You think Sherlock has grown indifferent towards emotions, but you're wrong! Sherlock might not understand emotions, but he understands that he needs them! And if you don't help, Mother, he'll find someone else who will, and when he does he won't return to you! You're pushing him away, and soon he'll be so far away that you won't be able to reach him!"

"I SAID STOP THIS!" Mrs. Holmes yelled as she smacked her son's face, "This matter is no longer your concern, do you understand?"

"...Yes Ma'am..." Mycroft said, but dared not look at his mother.

"Good, now go leave me. The new nanny will be here by next month; I need to finish up making arrangements."

As Mycroft left he did not look back at his mother, nor did Mrs. Holmes look towards her son as he left.

 


	30. Do the Tides Ever Stop Turning?

**"World Wide Construction Business Plummets!"**

**"Scandal at the Waterfront Inc!"**

**"Mr. Ricardo caught in cliche affair!"**

**"Strike Two for Mrs. Holmes!"**

These were the headlines of the papers that Mycroft had spotted on his way home from school. The young man groaned when he saw them; it would mean hell when got home. Although he honestly didn't believe the papers and theorized that these were just rumors, it still angered him to no end.

With Mycroft's birthday coming up in just three days, the new nanny coming in a week, him leaving to visit the University, exams, and the endless annoyance from his 'class mates' about his constant solitude, this was just the topping on the cake of Mycroft' troubles. No doubt Mother and Esteban were already in a well-raged fight by the time he would get home, and poor Dina would have to rearrange her schedule to try and stay clear of them. Mycroft was truly at wits end with all the drama going on.

* * *

"I'm telling the truth, Aithley! I'd never cheat on you!"

"Well then if you didn't, then where did the papers get these stories?!"

"I don't know!"

"Because these are some very intimate details!"

"I'm tell you, I don't know how they got those stories!"

"Because from what you've told me is that you're the only one with the keys to-"

Mycroft groaned and buried his head in his pillows. They all knew his mother didn't believe the stories, but it got very annoying that she would have to put up her whole 'insecure' act.

Aithley would act all insecure and blame (fill in the blank),

They would defend themselves,

Aithley would start going on about all the reasons why shouldn't, didn't, and couldn't believe him,

They'd go on about how they care for her,

And then everybody is all happy, and it's rainbows and butterflies from there on out!

Mycroft lost count of how many times he'd seen this act. His mother did it with Elliot, his uncle, aunts, hell even her own mother and father! Esteban was just another victim to fall for the same routine. Although, if Mycroft was honest, his mother really did have insecurity issues. The probability was she would use this as an advantage over people and to manipulate them.

* * *

"Are they done yet?"

Mycroft lifted his head up from the book he was reading on his bed. "I think so, although I can't be sure, Mother might be sulking."

Sherlock gave a small giggle, "What were they arguing about?"

"Oh, just some rumor going around in the papers. Someone told the media that there was a scandal going on at Mr. Ricar- I mean Esteban's work."

"Is there?" Sherlock knew that he could trust Mycroft's word. Sure, Mycroft could be annoying, sneaky, and fat, but he was truthful.

"No, I talked with Mr. Wilson before, Esteban's secretary who having this so-called 'affair' with Esteban has high religious morals and is already married. So unless Esteban is forcing himself on her, which is very highly unlikely, someone is just trying to get back at Esteban for some reason."

Sherlock soberly nodded.

"Mycroft, who's Elisabeth?"

Mycroft stopped when he realized he had no idea who that was. "I- I don't know, why?"

Sherlock walked fully into his older brother's room carrying a folder with him. On the folder it there was a white label that said **Elisabeth Belle** on the front cover. "I found this on mummy's desk, it was open and on top of mummy's magazine with the man in his pants so it must be important!"

"Sherlock Holmes! You know better than to go into mummy's things!"

"No I don't! And you know that Mycroft!"

"Sherlock," Mycroft said through gritted teeth, "I'm not in the mood for games. Just give me the folder and go- I don't know- go do an experiment or something!"

"Not until I know who this Elisabeth person is!"

"Fine!"

Sherlock climbed on the bed and sat across from Mycroft. He handed the folder over to his older brother and sat back with his hands folded across his chest. "Well?!"

Mycroft looked through the folder, the first thing he saw was a picture of a young girl, about fifteen or sixteen years old. Her photo was hanging onto the folder by a paperclip next to the page with her information on it.

* * *

Full Name: Elisabeth Marie Belle

Age: 16

Address: 119 Pine Wood Blvd, FL, 00000

Height: 5'6

Weight: 120

Hair Color: Light Brown

Eye Color: Blue

Heritage: American/Irish/Scottish/?

Parents: Thomas Ivan Belle (deceased) and Mary Jane Belle (deceased)

Siblings: None

Occupation: Sitter/caretaker/Nanny/-

* * *

_Nanny!?_

"It appears Miss Elisabeth Belle is to be your new nanny."

"NANNY?! NO ONE EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT A NANNY!"

Other than raising one of his eyebrows Mycroft kept a straight face. "Oh? Mother never said anything? Hmmm...Interesting, seeing as this new 'nanny' is to be here by next week."

"NEXT WEEK! Mycroft, do something! Tell Mr. Wilson not to pick her up-"

"-He's not, her lawyer is-"

"-Have her sent to Xinjiang-"

"-Plane tickets cost too much-"

"-Kidnap her family and hold them hostage unless she leaves-"

"-According to her file she doesn't have any-"

"-Kill her dog-"

"-Now that's going to far!-"

"-Have all her luggage sent to Lusaka in Zambia! Just get rid of her!"

"I'm sorry Sher, I've tried reasoning with mother, but she seems to have her mind set on this one."

"Noooooo! Don't leave me with her! A sitter is bad enough, but a girl?!"

"Oh come on Sher, it's not that bad. Besides, she's pretty cute."

"CUTE?! Oh no...Mycroft please, no! his can't be happening, not you!"

Mycroft chuckled and handed the folder back to Sherlock, the boy was clearly overreacting. "It'll be fine Sherlock, besides, like you said, she's a girl, a teenage girl at that. She'll probably talk on the phone the whole time and barely even notice you!"


	31. The Duties of an Older Brother

Dinner time came and the two boys went downstairs and seated themselves at the dining room table. Tonight the only one to join the boys was Esteban. Mr. Ricardo sat at the head of the table with Mycroft to his right and Sherlock next to Mycroft.

"Is Mother not joining us tonight, Esteban?" Mycroft asked as he took a small spoonful of his soup.

"I'm afraid not, after the...*cough*...business problems that me and your mother were just discussing, Aithley retired to her room and asked not to be disturbed."

"I hope you and Mummy resolved the 'business problems' before she retired?"

"Hm? Oh yes, we did resolve it, but now people will be wanting interviews and such and your mother would like some rest."

"The calm before the storm?"

"Yeah, something like that."

The rest of the evening was passed in silence; Esteban left soon after to join Aithley in their room. Once they were alone, Mycroft looked over at Sherlock and sighed, "You need a bath."

Sherlock sat scooping chocolate ice cream into his mouth, "So?"

"Well, you're obviously not going to take one by yourself, and you'd rather stay dirty so I can't expect you to ask someone to draw it for you."

"And you're going to do it?"

Mycroft sighed, "Mrs. Marbles is busy in the kitchen, Dina left an hour ago to return home, Mr. Wilson is out getting Mummy's dry cleaning and Tobias Andreson- Well, I don't think you'd be quite cooperative with him."

Sherlock looked up at his older brother, "You're really going to give me a bath?"

"How's this, if you behave and cooperate...I'll read you a story."

"Depends...What story?"

"You pick-"

"TREASURE ISLAND!"

"Fine! You go get your pajamas and I'll go run the water-"

"Be sure to add the bubbles while the water is running so they mix better!"

"Alright!"

"And be sure to put my bath toys out!"

* * *

"Fifteen men on the Dead Man's Chest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!" Sherlock sang out for the 5th time since Mycroft began reading.

"I'm not going to continue reading if you keep doing that!" Mycroft yelled through gritted teeth.

* * *

"I'm cap'n here by 'lection. I'm cap'n here because I'm the best man by a long sea-mile. You won't fight, as gentlemen o' fortune should; then, by thunder, you'll obey, and you may lay to it! I like that boy, now; I never seen a better boy than that. He's more a man than any pair of rats of you in this here house, and what I say is this: let me see him that'll lay a hand on him-that's what I say, and you may lay to it."

"No! You gotta do the voice!"

"The voice?"

"Yes! For each character you gotta do a voice!"

"But- Why?!"

"'Cause! Otherwise it just sounds like you're repeating something from one of your lessons! You gotta do a pirate voice!"

"But Sherlock, I've been reading this entire time and I haven't done any voices! Why are you just complaining now?"

"What are you talking about? You have too been doing voices!"

Mycroft stopped and thought for a moment. His eyes widened when the realization hit him that he had been subconsciously doing voices for each character the entire time! Mycroft never did anything without thinking first! This worried him greatly, he would have to look into it. It sounded like an interesting study: psychology, the study of the brain. He would have to look in the library later and find all the books they had about-

"Keep reading!" Sherlock said irritably.

* * *

Mycroft heaved a sigh of relief as he closed the book. He looked down at the small boy in his arms. Sherlock had fallen asleep while he was reading. In any other situation he would have said it was rude. Mycroft cradled the boy in his arms and carried him over towards his bed. As he laid Sherlock down, he pulled the covers over Sherlock's body and tucked him in.

He looked over his handiwork and noticed that Sherlock had notes sprawled over his bed.

As Mycroft picked the papers up, he noticed one of them was about the crystals Sherlock had hung in his room months back.

Another was on some fungi Sherlock and John found by a river at John's house.

One was even about some mold he found at their father's house. When Mycroft read this he grew sad, the only reason there was mold in their father's flat was because Noami was gone. Mycroft knew how fond Sherlock was of the old woman, Mycroft had a liken to her as well.

But Mycroft knew the Noami was getting old, according to statistics she should have retired years ago. During his last visit, Mycroft walked down to her flat one day and spoke with her. Within almost a few minutes of talking with her he discovered that her other 'job offer' was a lie to get away from there without having to prolong the inevitable. They both knew that it was probably for the best.

They both knew that Sherlock found have begged her to stay.

And they both knew that she would have.

* * *

_*Knock**knock**knock*_

_"Hello- Mycroft! How are you dear? Come in! Come in!"_

_"Afternoon Mrs. Cloud, I'm pleasant, and you?"_

_"Fine, fine, would you like a biscuit, dear? They're fresh out of the oven!"_

_"I'll have a few if you don't mind. I understand you're resigning from your position working with for my father?"_

_"Hm? Oh yes, I'm getting too old for all that traveling. I think it's time I settled down for a bit, this new job I'm working for allows me to-"_

_"There was no other job offer." It wasn't a question._

_The older woman sighed, "That's the thing about you Holmes boys, there's no keeping secrets around you two."_

_"Why did you lie? I'm sure my father would have understood-"_

_"My, come sit dear and I'll explain."_

_Mycroft walked into her flat and took a seat in her living area. Noami Cloud soon joined him, bringing out a tray of biscuits._

_"You see Mycroft, I knew Sherlock was supposed to be visit soon and I thought it best if there wasn't a long goodbye. If I had said otherwise, your father would have tried to convince me to stay until the move. We both know, Mycroft, how clingy Sherlock can be; I couldn't stand the idea of having to hug him goodbye and see him with tears in his eyes. I know it's selfish of me, but-"_

_"So you thought it best if Sherlock never saw you again?!"_

_The older woman gave a small smile, "You and Sherlock are always welcome to come by and visit me. Always know that Mycroft, my doors are always open to you two."_

_"Yes Nam, I know, but you can't expect him to handle this lightly!"_

_"I don't expect him to, I was hoping that I could visit him before your father moved. But whenever I try calling to ask when Sherlock is due to visit, the man never picks up!"_

_"Father?"_

_"Yes, I know it sounds spiteful of me, but I honestly think the man is trying to push me out of your family's life!"_

_"That sounds like father..."_

_Mycroft looked up to see Noami with a sad look upon her face. He knew she never like talking down about her past relations, but there was truth that neither of them could deny._

_"He wasn't always like that, you know." Myroft said sadly, "I never understood it, I honestly didn't even know he was like that till a couple of months ago! When I visit him, he takes me out to eat, to the cinema, circus, land marks. But when he's with Sherlock he turns cold and cruel, like it's all Sherlock's fault that everything happened."_

_"It's his way of dealing with everything. It's wrong, but it's his way. To Elliot, it's your mother's fault for not being there, that woman's fault for not being so discreet, Sherlock's for saying something at the dinner table. Why, I'd bet he even blames your mother's father for teaching Sherlock about deducing people. The only people your father doesn't blame is himself and you, and my guess is that the only reason he doesn't blame you is because you weren't there at the time. If you were, I'm sure he would blame you for not stopping Sherlock from saying something."_

_Mycroft eyes grew distant and glassy, "I miss him Noami...I miss my daddy."_


	32. Faithfully Yours,

"But Whhhhhhhy?"

"Because Sherlock, that's why!"

It was the day before Mycroft's eighteenth birthday, and that night there would be a party to celebrate. Although both Sherlock and Mycroft disliked large parties, their Mother adored them. A few years back, Sherlock might not have minded them, but ever since Mycroft began to try and get a start in the business world parties became boring and stupid.

Sherlock, as he would before every party, began complaining about anything and everything. First, it would start off with "Doooo I haaaave to gooo?" then it would progress to "But whhhhhy?" And from there "But itttt's boooooring!" "Can I go over to John's?" "Can John come over here?" "Muuuummmm...My tummy hurts!"

* * *

Sherlock rolled his eyes when he saw Ronald and Harold trying to flirt with two American girls whose father obviously was already trying to pair them up with his business partner's sons.

The young raven haired boy leaned over and rested himself against the post at the top of the railing on the grand staircase to the upstairs. He liked standing at the top because no one would look up there for him and he could still see everyone.

Mycroft was off talking with some popular up-and-coming politician. Sherlock never understood why Mycroft wanted to work for the government. Both he and Sherlock had agreed long ago that the law was corrupt; did Mycroft hope to change that? When Sherlock at his young age knew that was impossible.

Although the room was filled with music and sounds of chatter, a loud and obnoxious laugh floated above it all. Sherlock groaned and looked for its source and found it was just as he had expected. It was his Great Aunt Cecily, a pompous woman with an unchangeable look on life and an appetite that could put King Henry the VIII to shame!

Great Aunt Cecily was the only relative from the Holmes side of the family that they stayed in contact with. Although the woman would spoil the children she would never fail to pinch their cheeks and mess up their hair. Sherlock saw it as his mission every visit to be the first to break this ritual.

The one thing Sherlock absolutely hated about parties was that he was the youngest and therefore the baby of the family. The main reason he always hid during parties was because everyone would look down at him and smile and speak in high-pitched voices. They would laugh at his scowl and call him cute little pet names that he despised with all his being.

It was only six in the evening, and the party would most likely go on until sometime past midnight. If a party was on a school night, Sherlock was usually able to get his mother to excuse him and let him 'go to bed' early. But if it was on a weekend, like this one, he was required to stay 'till at least 10:30.

The only thing that pleased Sherlock was the food and the fact that their parties were all ballroom parties. Although only a small amount of people would actually dance, they made sure to have an orchestra playing all night.

Women in elegant gowns of brilliant of colors filled the room. Each dress stood out in the golden ballroom, flashing and blending together to create a rainbow in the sea of black tuxedos. Outfits of every kind filled the room; long elegant gowns, full frilly dresses, mid-length, sleeveless, but the one that stood out the most was the dress his cousin Lilith wore. It was a burgundy Quinceañera Ball Gown, it was a reddish-brown color and strapless. On the skirt were little swirly designs and a layer of material at the waist with a rose pinned onto it.

Sherlock sneered as he saw nearly everybody in the room turn their heads towards his cousin.

"Lilith doesn't seem to understand the definition of the word modest."

Sherlock jumped a little and turned to see his cousin Arthur behind him. Sherlock didn't mind Arthur; he was quiet and kept to himself. The two cousins barely exchanged more than a few words since they met 3 years ago when Arthur and his father, Lawrence, returned from their trip in India.

Sherlock solemnly nodded, he watched as Lilith was introduced to a gentleman with greasy black hair. Although the man smiled smugly and tried his hardest to impress her, she was clearly disgusted with him.

* * *

Sherlock held back a groan as his mother placed her arms on his shoulders, "Oh Aithley! Your Sherlock has grown so much since the last time I saw him! Children grow so fast!"

"Yes, I can't believe how many pants sizes he's grown in the last year! I heard that boys don't hit their grown spurt till they're in their teens, I can just imagine how tall he's going to be!"

"Oh yes, my little Amelia here has grown 2 whole dress sizes in the last five months!"

Mrs. Fairfax held her hands on her daughter's shoulders, mirroring Mrs. Holmes' position.

Mrs. Bernete Fairfax was a fair, well-rounded woman in her mid-thirties. She had dirty blonde hair done up in a tight bun. Her skin was lightly tanned and smoothed from the lotions she bathed herself in. She had green piercing eyes and a long pointed nose, which on it sat a pair of glasses. She wore a long-fitting black gown that shimmered in the light.

Her daughter, Amelia, was two years older than Sherlock. She inherited her mother's dirty blonde hair and well-rounded body. Her nose was much smaller than her mother's and her skin a little darker. Although two years his senior, Amelia was the same height as Sherlock. Her brown eyes were wide and, in Sherlock's own words, 'bugish'. Her hands that were long and slender matched her long straight hair. Amelia wore a frilly pink dress that went to her shins; the sleeves were puffed out and hemmed with lace.

The young girl smiled up at her mother's comment, her lips twisted from a beaming smile to a smug smirk. She glanced over at Sherlock, looking at him from head to toe she began her judge.

It was unusual for children to attend the parties at the Holmes Manor. Sherlock vaguely remembered the Fairfax family, he remember the day that his mother said that a family was coming with a child around his age. He also remembered his hope being crushed into a million pieces when he discovered the child was a girl.

"Sherlock, why don't you take Miss Fairfax and show her around the house."

Sherlock looked up at his mother with pleading eyes, "Do I have to?"

"Don't be rude Shirley, promise me you'll be a good boy for Mummy?"

Sherlock groaned, "Yes, Mama."

* * *

"And this is the kitchen- Okay! You've seen everything now! Time to go back to the party-" Sherlock went to grab Amelia by the arm and drag her back to the ball room when she stiffened her arm and turned towards the staircase.

"Can I see your room again?" Amelia said as she started to head up the stairs.

"No!" Sherlock said as he tried to pull her away from the stairs.

"That's very rude of you."

"I don't care! I don't want sissies in my room! It's bad enough I have to deal with Mycroft!" He said still pulling.

"My daddy said that Mycroft is going to work for him and that your family is going to be indebted to us. So you have to be nice to me!"

"No I don't! Mycroft is going to work for the government! Your daddy is just stupid and thinks that Mycroft doesn't know a thing about the business world! Well he's wrong! I even heard them earlier saying that your daddy is behind on his taxes! Your daddy just wants Mycroft to work for him cause he's afraid of him!"

"Not true! My daddy isn't afraid of anything!"

"Yes he is! He is also afraid that your mum is going to find out about his gambling problem!"

Amelia stood back and shoved Sherlock away from her, pushing against his chest. As Sherlock stumbled backwards, he tripped over a step and fell off the stairs and hit his head on the floor. Dazed, Sherlock could hear people scrambling towards him, but couldn't make out who they were.

When everything stopped spinning Sherlock looked and saw Amelia's face paled and eyes widened. He also saw a man walk over and ask her something. Whatever he asked her made her more nervous. Sherlock soon felt something touch his back and made him jump.

"Sher, are you alright?" Said one voice,

"Does he need a hospital?" Said another.

The first voice spoke again, this time he recognized it as Mycorft. "Don't be absurd! It's a slight bump, he'll live."

"My?" Sherlock looked up.

"Yes Sherlock, what happened?"

"S- She pushed me." Sherlock said as he got onto his feet again.

"I DID NOT! HE'S LYING!"

"Miss Fairfax," Mycroft began angrily, "I do believe it's time-"

"I'm fine Mycroft, there's barely even a bump there. Just tell her mum and leave it." Sherlock said sluggishly.

* * *

The rest of the evening was uneventful and soon the guests began leaving. As the hosts, the Holmes family had to say goodbye to everyone at the door. At first, only Mycroft and Aithley stood by the door and said farewell to everyone. But as the evening dragged on and Sherlock begun to get tired, he joined his family and leaned against his mother as he tiredly blinked.

When the Fairfax family went to leave Mrs. Fairfax hugged Mrs. Holmes and Mr. Fairfax shook hands with Mycroft and reminded him about the offer he made him. Amelia, who stood behind her mother, peered out from behind her mother's leg and stuck her tongue out at Sherlock, who rolled his eyes in return.

* * *

"She's a spoiled brat is what she is!" Mycroft yelled as he shampooed Sherlock's head. Dina had stayed late to help clean up after the party and brought Sherlock a clean pair of pajamas.

"That might be true, Mr. Holmes, but your mother is quite fond of Mrs. Fairfax, I believe they are partners in their business."

"Which one?" Mycroft inquired.

"Her umm...Clothing designing one. I'm not much for names I'm afraid, I don't have much money so I'm not able to buy those big name brands."

"Yes, I believe her label is Eros, which is Greek for Love, romantic love that is." Mycroft sneered, "Her other business was a newspaper business in America. In all honesty, she was a horrible business woman! She never even paid attention to the business! I believe she hired a man named Francis to take care of it! Last I was told; she sold it to a 'friend' of hers."

"Yes, rumor has it that over half the outfits tonight were designed by either one of them! Mrs. Holmes must be proud of her business!"

"I hope she is, at least she is proud of something!"

"Begging your pardon Mr. Holmes, but you seem rather...wound up tonight, can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm just tired of my mother keeping her head stuck in the clouds! I know it's just her way of coping with it all...But she has to take responsibility sooner or later! It won't just disappear if she keeps ignoring it!" As Mycroft spoke his scrubbing became more and more forceful. Sherlock simply let his head be moved by Mycroft and stayed in a state of oblivion towards his brother's complaints.

Mycroft helped Sherlock stand up out of the bath and toweled him off. Sherlock's hair puffed out as Mycroft rubbed it dry. Wrapping a towel around Sherlock's body, Mycroft carried Sherlock into his bedroom where Dina had placed a pair of pajamas and turned down the bed.

* * *

Mycroft left Sherlock's room and was about to return to his when Dina came rushing back.

"Sir, I found this on the island in the kitchen, it must have fallen out when Mr. Wilson brought in the mail tonight. It's addressed to you sir."

"Ah, thank you Dina, you may retire for the night. And please, why don't you take tomorrow off, you've worked hard for it."

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes! I'll be sure to leave a note for Mrs. Marble to explain my absence."

* * *

Mycroft stared hard at the letter; he knew exactly who it was from just by looking at the hand writing on the envelope. He groaned as he opened it, dreading its contents. He guessed he couldn't put it off any longer; the man had been more than fair and understanding for the past few months. Since Mycroft turned eighteen it would be his decision from now on how often their visits were.

But now he wanted to see Mycroft, no doubt to try and 'make amends' so that Mycroft would continue their relationship. But Mycroft had had enough; he wasn't going to let Sherlock keep coming second. If their father wanted to keep his relationship with Mycroft going, he was going to have to try and fix things with Sherlock as well.

Before Mycroft turned in that night he reread the letter one last time.

_Dear Mycroft,_

_Happy birthday son, it's hard to believe you're already a young man. I now you hate small talk so I'll cut right to it. According to the agreement Aithley and I made, you and your brother were to visit me at least once a month. I think we can all agree that I have been more than fair in letting you two stay with your mother during these hard times. I would like to see you tomorrow if possible. I will be moving soon to America, and would like to conclude all business I have here in England._

_I have a feeling that you too would like to conclude some business with me as well. I will be at my flat tomorrow from 10 a.m through 7 p.m. please stop by if you find the time._

_I would also like to remind you of the business position I offered you last spring. It is still open and I believe I can pull a few strings to help you get the position. It would open the door to many other offers all within the Government._

_Faithfully yours,_

_Elliot S. Holmes_


	33. Baker Street

Mycroft walked up to the front door to his father's flat. The golden numbers stood out on the dark blue door: 213 Baker Street.

Baker Street was a nice enough street, it was lined with flats and even had a small sandwich store a few blocks down. It was in Central London, peaceful and quiet. Much too ordinary in Mycroft's opinion.

The young man knocked on the door which was opened by his father's driver Douglas. The driver nodded at Mycroft and moved to the side to let him pass.

There were 17 steps on the staircase to Elliot Holmes flat. The walls which once were a covered with horrid wallpaper were painted dark brown and woodsy greens. The furniture were made of leather and there was a dark blood red carpet in the middle of the living room floor. The only pictures in the house were of scenery and a single portrait of Elliot Holmes himself. The only picture in the entire flat was one of Mycroft the day before he went away to boarding school.

That was only a few months before the affair.

The picture was hidden in Elliot Holmes' bedroom on his dresser behind stand where he kept his collection of valuable watches.

Mycroft would always wonder if his father would ever take the picture just to look at it. But whenever he would visit he look and see the dust collecting.

"Please Sherlock!"

"But John! I'll be bored! You know I don't like sports! And besides, I won't know anyone there anyways!"

John and Sherlock were sitting in Sherlock's room, they were sitting on Sherlock's bed eating apples Sherlock wanted to use their cores for an experiment. John had asked Sherlock if he would come to a football game with him.

There had been three new families who had moved in and the town wanted to host a block party. So with contributes from different families the town was able to rent out a special indoor football field. John honestly didn't want to go, but his mother was forcing him and Harry to go. So because of this John's mother was allowing him to bring Sherlock, if it was okay with Mrs. Holmes.

"That's the point! I won't know anyone there either and I don't want to be alone!"

"So ask your mum not to go!"

"I did! But she won't let me, so she's letting me bring you. So please Sherlock, just ask your mum! I don't wanna be the only kid there!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked John over for a moment, making a decision. "Alright, I'll ask, besides, my mum is hiring a nanny and this might be the last chance I get to go out and do something alone!"

"A nanny? What for?"

"Since Mycroft is going off to Uni, Mummy and Esteban traveling all the time and the servants busy with the house there won't be anyone to watch me. So my mum is hiring a nanny to watch me."

"A nanny? You mean... Like a babysitter?"

Sherlock nodded and took another bit of his apple.

"So...Do you know who they are?"

"Yeah, I saw their file on my mum's desk. It's some girl named Elisabeth, she's a teenager without any family."

"When she's coming?"

"Next week. When's the block party?"

"This weekend." John said biting into his apple.

The two boys continued one like that, just biting into their apples, until one of the boys felt a small pain in his tooth. "Oooow!"

"Sherlock, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"My touth! It huuuuurts!"

* * *

"Afternoon father." Mycroft said with his usual calmness.

"Mycroft! You came! Happy birthday son! 18 years old, I still can't believe it. It felt like just yesterday we brought you home from the hospital! Oh yes, that reminds me, I have a present for you in my office, just wait here!"

Without letting Mycroft get a word in, Elliot ran into his home office/guestroom. A couple of minutes later he came rushing back down with something in his hand.

"Alright son, close your eyes and hold out your hand."

With a slight roll of the eye Mycroft shut his eyes and put his palm out into the air waiting. Suddenly he felt something small and metal fall into his hand. His breath hitched as he opened his eyes.

In his hand was a small set of keys.

"Go look out the window Mycroft."

After a second of gaining self-control and forcing himself not to run, Mycroft walked over to the window and saw a red Mustang.

"I saw you eyeing it in a magazine once a few months back when I asked you what you wanted for your birthday. With you going away to University neither your mother's or my driver will be able to bring you anywhere and you did have a car of your own...So- Happy birthday son!"

Mycroft was speechless, he stood by the window just blinking for several moments until he walked towards the door, down the stairs and over towards his new car.

It was a 1966 Shelby G.T 350 Ford Mustang.

Mycroft ran his fingers over the hood. "It's- It's really mine?" The boy said with disbelief.

"Of course, I only want the best for you Mycroft." said Elliot, who had followed Mycroft down.

"Thank you father!" Mycroft said as he ran and hugged his father.

* * *

"Shouldn't we tell someone?" Asked John as he peered into his best friend's mouth.

"No! Mother will make me go see that horrible dentist again!" Sherlock said quickly shutting his mouth.

"But 'Lock, what if there something seriously wrong with your tooth? You don't want it do get worse!"

"Of course not! But- I just don't want to see that horrible man again! Last time I went they had me watch him work on Mycroft. And guess what, they used a _drill_ on his tooth! What if they have to use a drill on my tooth! That would make it hurt ten times more! You don't want me to have to get my tooth drilled, do you?"

"No!...But what are we going to do?"

"I- I don't know...Maybe we should look in the library..."

"But won't your mother wonder why were looking for books on teeth?"

"Hmmm...You're right...I just don't know what to do!...John...I'm scared..."

John quickly put his arms around Sherlock. "Don't be 'lock! We'll figure something out! Maybe in the meantime you shouldn't eat anything with that tooth..."

"You done with that apple?" Sherlock asked John.

"Yeah, what are you going experiment on them?"

"Well, the two apples are both different types. I was able to get from Mr. Wilson and Mrs. Marble different types of..."

As Sherlock went on about his newest experiment a car pulled up into the Holmes manor driveway. The car was one of the Holmes cars that was sent off to the train station to pick a very special someone up. Mr. Wilson was driving the car and making some friendly conversation with young girl in the back seat.

The young girl nervously fixed her skirt as she continued talking with the driver. As they neared the manor the young girl began running over in her mind everything her headmaster had told her. She was dressed smartly, had a proper posture, she remembered to speak clearly and when spoken to, and also to never insult any of the family members or close relations of the family.

She was ready to impress.


	34. Miss Elisabeth Belle

Mrs. Holmes, a Miss. Elisabeth Belle here to see you." Mr. Wilson said as he lead a young girl to Mrs. Holmes study.

"Oh Yes, Wilson, let her in, I've been expecting her."

Behind Mr. Wilson was a young girl, now more than sixteen with lightly tanned skin. Although Mrs. Holmes already had the girl's profile and picture there was much about the girl's feature's in which the photo did not do her justice. Elisabeth's hair fell just past her shoulder blades and were light brown. Her wide doe eyes were a bright crystal blue. She was just above average height and her lean figure made her look taller.

"Miss. Belle, a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm Mrs. Aithley Holmes."

Mrs. Holmes stood from her chair and put her hand out for Elisabeth to shake. "The pleasure is mine I assure you. Your home, I must say, is magnificent."

Elisabeth's hand was smooth yet rough. Mrs. Holmes guessed that the head caretaker must have taken extra precautions made sure Elisabeth was dressed and card for properly.

"Thank you, and I hope it is, this house has been in my family for many generations. Now let's talk about your schedule, my youngest son, Sherlock, does to school each morning at 7 a.m. and comes home just after 2:30 p.m. he usually does his homework in the car on his way home so if he doesn't have any when he comes home don't be surprised. Dinner is at 6 p.m. and his bedtime is at 9 p.m. On weekend's he's allowed to stay up till 9:30, and if he has dessert is must be before 8:30, if he has any sweets anytime after that he's a nightmare to try and get to bed-"

Mrs. Holmes stopped short when she saw a small mop of black hair peer around the corner from the doorway.

* * *

"Well, what do you see?" Asked Sherlock as John peered from the bottom of the steps to look at the newcomer.

"She's a girl alright, probably a little younger than Mycroft..."

"It's her! I just know it!" Sherlock said using his height as an advantage and peered over John's head. "Come on John! Let's go see!"

Sherlock grabbed John's hand and dragged him down the stairs. On their way down John nearly tripped twice and at the bottom he couldn't stop himself and bumped into Sherlock. Sherlock put a finger to his lip to signal for John to be quiet. Sherlock was the first to look over the side of the door and into his mother's study. He was caught almost immediately and flew back around the corner when the two ladies turned to look at him.

"Sherlock dear, there's someone here I'd like you to meet." Mrs. Holmes called to her son.

With a groan from both boys they came out from there hiding place and stood by the door.

"Miss. Belle, this Sherlock and his friend John Watson. Boys, come here, I'd like you to meet Miss. Elisabeth Belle, Sherlock, she's going to be your new nanny."

John, who tried to stay behind Sherlock as much as possible only slightly waved his hand towards the young lady. Sherlock, on the other hand, crossed his armed and stomped his foot as he yelled "I don't want a nanny!"

"Sherlock, I've been over this before, with mine and father's work, Mycroft going to University, and the servants with their own work, there won't be anyone to watch you. I'm sorry dear, but you're going to have to just make the best of it." Mrs. Holmes said, trying to hold back a groan and yell. It was hard enough to try and find a full time nanny who wasn't too old. She wasn't about to let Sherlock scare this one off.

"Esteban is not father and never will be! And I don't care! You can just send me to John's home! They _actually_ like me there!"

"It's been decided Sherlock, now run along and play, Mrs. Watson wants John home in time for dinner."

"...yes mummy..."

* * *

Elisabeth Belle wasn't suppose to start working for the Holmes' until the following week. But the Head caretaker had spoken with Mrs. Holmes and decided that it would be best for Elisabeth to 'get to the know the place' before actually starting working there.

Mrs. Holmes seemed like a nice enough person, much like every other parent who came to the agency. Most of the time they got single parents who were overworked and had no time to deal with their bratty children that not even the servants wanted to deal with. Mrs. Holmes wanted to get straight to the point; meaning she had other work to do and couldn't even deal with the person who would be dealing with her child.

Sherlock, one the other hand, seemed like he just wanted someone who he was familiar with to care for him, like most child do. Perhaps once he got comfortable around Elisabeth he might warm up to her, at least she hoped. Sherlock, like most children his age, was simply adorable. His curls were wild and unruly mush like himself. His pale skin showed just how little time he spend in the sun and his figure showed just how picky he was.

The one person who interested Elisabeth was this Esteban. She was told that Mrs. Holmes was remarried and guessed that Esteban was the man who she remarried to. It was normal for child to feel indifferent towards their parent's new spouse. Sherlock obviously had some problem with Esteban, or perhaps it was feelings towards his real father that Esteban just happen to get thrown with.

* * *

One of the servants, Dina, showed Elisabeth to her new room. Dina was around Elisabeth's age, had short blonde hair, and was just shorter than Elisabeth.

"Are you to be working here at the manor?" Dina asked as she lead Elisabeth up a large staircase.

"Yes, Mrs. Holmes hired me to work as a nanny for her son Sherlock."

"Ha, good luck! Sherlock is a nice kid, but he can be as stubborn as mule! Just be sure to stay clear when he's in one of his black moods!"

"Black moods?" Elisabeth said as she carried her small wicker suitcase.

"Yeah, sometimes he just shuts everyone and everything out. They don't happen very often, they started right after his parent's divorce. They happen every few months or so, they only last for about a day or so. The longest one his had was one sometime towards the beginning of the year, lasted a whole week. He'll just stay in his room, lock the door and sometimes won't even eat! I had to bride him with biscuits once just to make sure he didn't starve!"

"Oh gosh...What does Mrs. Holmes do about it?"

"Ummm...Well...She- She's not here when they happen...That time when it lasted for a week was the week she had to go to Tokyo for a week. When we told her about it she said that if it happened again to either get her or get the doctor if she's not there. When it did happen again, Mr. Wilson fetched her. She tried talking to him about it, got nowhere, tried getting him doctors, councilors, anyone really, but no one could get anything out of him."

"What does his father think?"

"Well...After Sherlock bite his fifth therapist Mrs. Holmes gave up and told us to simply make sure Sherlock got food, didn't do anything to hurt himself, and not to mention anything to Mr. Holmes...Not that the man would care anyways- Ah! Here we are! Ha! Mrs. Holmes must planned this, your room is directing in between Sherlock's and Mycroft!"

"Mycroft? Who is that?"

"That's Mrs. Holmes oldest and Sherlock's older brother. He's going away to University next year, I guess Mrs. Holmes is hoping Sherlock would warm up to you by than!"

"What about you? What do you do here?" Elisabeth said as Dina opened the bedroom door.

"I'm pretty much an assistant...For everything. I work as a maid, help Mrs. Marbles, our cook/cleaning lady, in the kitchen, help Mr. Wilson, our driver/butler, with the errands, and Mr. Anderson, our gardener, with anything he might need. But because I'm still in school I can only help out afternoons and evenings."

"Wow...Sounds like you got your hands full!"

"Yeah, it feels like too much sometimes. But the money sure makes it- Oh! Mr. Holmes! I wasn't aware you returned!"

"Dina, who's this?"

 


	35. The Nanny

The moment he saw her, Mycroft already knew who she was from her picture on the file. But to see her in their manor, standing there in a room that would now become her's, made everything seem a bit more real.

Although Mycroft liked to pride himself on the fact that he never felt any attraction towards anyone, even he had to admit there was something pleasant about Miss Belle. She seemed determined, yet calm and understanding. She was dressed smartly, yet had a homey feel about her.

"Miss Elisabeth Belle, meet Mr. Mycroft Holmes."

Elisabeth gave a slight nod of her head and spoke. "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft returned with a nod. "Please, the pleasure is mine. I hope you enjoy your time here Miss Belle, we don't hire many people here often, it's refreshing to have a new face."

"Thank you, and please, call me Elisabeth."

"Very well, Elisabeth."

* * *

Sherlock was sulking.

John was annoyed.

"C'mon Sherlock! It's not that bad! She's just going to check on you a few times during the day and make sure you eat and take your baths! The worst she can do is send you to your room!"

Sherlock just stared up at his ceiling from his bed.

"...I'll flush your experiment with worms down the toilet..."

Sherlock gave a quick glance over towards his friend. "No you won't. You and I gathered those worms ourselves. We spent about a half an hour trying to find them and you wouldn't get rid of them because you feel a sense of accomplishment after putting so much time and effort into gathering them. Flushing them down the toilet would only-"

Sherlock was cut off by a feathered pillow coming down upon his face. Sherlock sat up to see John standing on his bed with his pillow in hand.

"Wha-"

But before Sherlock could get anything else in John flung the pillow at Sherlock's face again.

"John, what-"

And again.

"That's really getting-"

And again,

"Seriously, stop it!-"

And again, until finally Sherlock stood up and grabbed another pillow and flung it at John who ducked it. "Ha! Missed me! Missed me! Now you gotta kiss me!"

Both boys stopped and stared at each other, John, realizing what he just said, and Sherlock with the image of John kissing him graved into his head, and together said "Eeeeeewwww!"

The two boys continued to beat each other with every pillow that came in sight. And it was on that day that John learned that for some strange reason, Sherlock had a lot of pillows in his room.

* * *

"-And this is Sherlock's room- SHERLOCK BLOODY HOLMES!" Dina said as feather's began pouring out of the 7 year old's room.

Two small 'Uh oh's' were heard from somewhere inside the feather covered room.

"What happened in here?!" Dina demanded.

"We...We were...er...Having a...Pillow fight..." John said plopping down on Sherlock's bed.

"And who, might I ask, did you think was going to clean this mess up?!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and plopped down next to John, "Oh please Dina, it's not like you ever clean my room anyways!"

"Yes, but you're not the one who's going to have to deal with your mother later when she sees this mess! If this mess isn't cleaned up I could lose my job!" Dina said putting her hands on her hips.

"Uuuugh! Fine, John and I will clean this up...later."

"You'd better! And if your mother asks later why your room is a mess I will tell her you insisted that you clean this up yourself! Am I clear?!"

"...Yes..." Sherlock and John said with a groan.

"What kind of feathers are these?" Everyone turned, seeming to forget the soon-to-be nanny was there with them as well. There was something of interesting about this girl, which Sherlock loathed to admit. She was not meant to be interesting, she was meant to be boring and unless, something which they could all live without so that Mummy might see her uselessness and send her away. There was no way he was going to become interested in her.

"Swan. They're swan feathers," Sherlock said, he made sure his voice was flat with disinterest.

"Oh, yes, of course. I'm Elisabeth by the way; we met downstairs earlier today."

"Yes, of course I remember! You're to be my new 'nanny'. I don't know why Mummy chose you out of all the girls at, what was it? St. Peter's school for girls, yes you're in some special program so they can get the older girls out of the school so they can focus on the younger orphans. Going by your hairline you've been an orphan your whole life-"

"My hairline?!"

"Yes, it's no secret that the workers there aren't know for their...effectiveness...Whoever did your hair -yes obviously you didn't do it yourself, rich family needs a nanny, you head caretaker wants to make sure they're satisfied, hoping they'll 'hire' more of their girls- wasn't exactly gentle, but going by your hairline you're use to that pull and nagging."

John just stared at his friend as Dina rolled her eyes and held back a groan.

"Not only are you inexperienced with childcare you are inexperienced with life itself! You're still a virgin and you've not even been kissed before! You study most of the time and take ballet lessons when you don't. You're used to sharing a room with multiple people, so you're nervous about having a room all to yourself. During your time at St. Peter's you've been taking classes on Childcare and anything on families-"

"Alright! That's enough Sherlock!" Dina said exasperated.

"How- How did you know all that?!" Elisabeth said gaping.

"By deducing, it's easy once you get the hang of it," Sherlock said sticking his nose up.

Elisabeth smiled at the young boy, "Well, and here I was worried about getting bored. You certainly are something, Sherlock! Well, I'd better get to unpacking, I'll see you later Sherlock!" And with that the girl left John and Sherlock to muse over what had occurred.

"So what do you think of her?" John said, sitting with his legs crossed.

"She's alright...I guess, but don't expect me to like her!" Sherlock said pouting.

"I wouldn't dare expect so much of you Sherlock!" John said, mocking a shocked yet offended look. "The great Sherlock Holmes actually liking his nanny?! Whoever came up with such an idea?!"

Sherlock gave a quick smirk towards his friend and tackled him into the bed and began tickling him.

* * *

"Hello, Mrs. Holmes speaking."

"Oh I'm fine, just getting some paper work done."

"Not at all! It's always nice to have a little distraction every now and then!"

"Yes...Of course, I'll have my driver Mr. Wilson bring him over right away."

"Well I hope you feel better soon."

"Have a nice day Mr. Watson!"


	36. In Our Own Worlds

"Arrrg! The dreaded pirate Blue Bread leaves no survivors! Because you have dared tried to steal my treasure, you must walk the plank!"

"Lock, where did you even get the plank?"

"Jooooohn! You have to stay in character! I got it from Mr. Andersen's garden shed."

"And you're sure he wasn't going to use it later?"

A long piece of wood was hanging off the end of Sherlock's bed. Under it was a sea of pillows waiting for John to fall on them. Sherlock wore a red bandana, a white, baggy and old pair of faded jeans. John wore a blue striped jumper and a pair of jeans that were too big for him with a hole in one of the knees and a fake eye patch.

"I won the sword fight, John! Since I won you have to jump!"

"That's not fair! You're taking fencing lessons and I'm not!"

"It's not my fault my mum signed me up for those stupid lessons!"

John slowly walked over to the end of the bed where the board was being held down by a large rock. The bed the board was hanging off of was one of the beds in the guest room they slept in. Ever since the first day they decided that the one of the left was Sherlock's, and the the one on the right was John's. They were now pretending they were pirate ships, and after fighting with wooden swords that they got Mycroft to build ( _"Pleeeeease My!" "No Sher!" "...I'll give my dessert for two weeks!" "...Deal..."_ ) they had a battle (Which Sherlock had won) in which the loser had to 'walk the plank.'

John looked over the edge of the board and then down at the pillows on the floor. Making a very audible swallow, he put one foot on the wood near the rock and the other at the other end to feel how steady the board was.

"Fine! If I jump will you?"

"...Maybe..."

John quickly got off the board and made room for Sherlock.

The moment Sherlock set his foot on the board he realized why John was so nervous. As he looked down he didn't realized just how flimsy the board was. The plank sunk down onto the bed as Sherlock stepped onto it.

Sherlock slowly walked to the end of the bed and looked over the edge of the plank. He turned around and looked back at John. The light haired boy stared worriedly at the raven haired boy, both unsure.

Sherlock turned around and started counting.

"...1...2...3-"

Sherlock pushed himself off from the plank and into the air. John watched his friend with amazement. As Sherlock jumped the rock which had been holding the plank down rolled off making the plank go flying into the air along with Sherlock. The boy and the plank flew through the air.

As the two sailed through the air the door opened and Mrs. Holmes walked in. "Boys, Mr.- Oh my word!"

Sherlock landed on the pillows with a *Thud* and the plank continue flying until it hit the wall behind the door. Mrs. Holmes, seeing the plank flying towards her, quickly closed the door and only reopened when she heard the plank hit the wall. When she did reopen the door it was to two boys laughing merrily.

"Hope it was worth the laugh! Because Sherlock you will be apologizing to Mr. Anderson for taking his wood and that rock from the garden. But first, say good-bye to John, his father just called and wants him home. I'll be downstairs getting Mr. Wilson, you have 5 minutes." And with that left.

Sherlock turned to his friend, "Will you be already?"

"Sure, why shouldn't I be?" John asked as he slid off the bed and began gather his clothes.

"I-...It's just-...Your dad-"

"Sherlock you promised not to talk about it!"

"I know! It's just...I'm worried. You will tell me if anything happens, right?"

"...Yeah...I'll see you at school, alright?"

"Yeah... Good bye, John."

"Bye, Sherlock."

When John got home he was still dressed as a pirate with his normal clothes folded and inside his shirt which he wrapped the sleeves around and tied them together to make sure the clothes wouldn't fall out. Harry had taught him that after she got back from a camping trip with their aunt.

As soon as he got home he looked around to see who was home. It was only 4 in the afternoon so Penelope wouldn't be home yet. "Harry!" John called out, but instead he was answered with a groan coming from their kitchen.

Nervously he walked in the kitchen to find his father slumped over the sink. The whole room stunk of alcohol and vomit.

"J'hn?"

"Y-yes father, you wanted me home?"

"G't me somthng t' th'ink."

"Y-yes sir."

John walked over to their fridge and searched for some kind of beverage.

"We got some milk, different juices, and some soda pop."

"Beer y'u idi't!"

"Yes sir..."

Everyone in the Watson family knew that the bottom drawer was off limits. It was their father's drawer for him to do with what he chooses. There was a small label on the handle of the drawer that read 'Fruit/Vegetables' but any who lived in the house knew inside were beer and usually leftovers from whatever restaurant Mr. Watson went to for his break.

John wrapped his small hand around the beer can and shut the fridge. The small boy walked over to his father who had moved himself from the kitchen to the living room couch.

John approached slowly and offered up the beer can like it was a peace offering. Client Watson ripped the can out of his son's hand and cracked it open. As he drink from the can, he began to eye John and look him over."

"W'at the h'll are y'u wear'in?!"

"A p-pirate outfit... Me and Sherlock were playing pirates..."

"Did y'u fin'sh y'ur humewure?" Clint slurred.

"Yes, I finished at Sherlock's house."

"Are y'u clen?"

"Yes, I took a bath before I went to Sherlock's."

"Did y'u do y'ur chur's?"

"...I- I was gonna do them when I got home...Penelope said I could, I just have to put the dishes away, take the trash out-"

*SMACK*

With his anger anew, his slur gone, Clint stood up and grabbed John by his collar. "I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHAT THAT BITCH SAID! I want all the chores done before dinner! I don't care if Harry was supposed to do them or not! I want them all taken care of!"

With that, Clint back-handed John and then stormed off to his bedroom.


	37. When We Can Do Nothing

* * *

Penelope Watson returned home around 2 in the morning. She had taken an extra shift for one of her co-workers to make some extra money. It had been a long night; one of her patients had a cardiac arrest, another passed away during the night and another was just plain annoying.

Harry had called the hospital that day asking if she could spend the night at Clara's house. Of course, Penelope immediately agreed; Harry always did try her hardest given their...situation.

As Penelope entered the house, she found the kitchen light on and a tired, worn out John hanging over the sink with a dish rag hanging from his hand. She smiled fondly at the boy as she gathered him in her arms. She carried the blonde-haired boy up the stairs and to his room.

When they came to the hall, she heard snoring coming from her room. Penelope sighed, she could only imagine what Clint had done to the poor boy. After putting John in his bed, she walked to her room and opened the door a creak to peer into the room.

Client was spread out on the bed, still in his clothes, a beer can danging from his hand and a small puddle directly underneath where the can hung from his hand. The room stunk of alcohol, smoke and vomit. As Mrs. Watson looked by her husband's head she noticed that he had thrown up and not made it to the bathroom.

Now if only she could get John out of the house.

* * *

"So tell me, Elisabeth," Mycroft said, trying out the girl's name on his tongue. It had a strange feeling to it, not a bad feeling, but more like honey. Sweet honey. "What are your interests?"

The young lady in question looked up from her breakfast of eggs, bacon and a small bowel of oatmeal, "I've always adored the theater! Last year a sponsor played for us to see the play 'The Importance of being Earnest.' I must say I quite enjoyed it! My Aunt Tammy, who had an unfortunate car accident, once told me when I was a child that my mother did the make-up for a theater and would even sometimes volunteer to work with circuses and even operas!"

"And how do you like them? Operas I mean." Mycroft asked as took a bite of his egg.

"Well...I've never actually been to one... The only times I was ever able to see plays or musicals or any activities outside Madam Kelley's Home for Girls was when a sponsor would pay for us to go. All the money we earned went to paying for our schooling."

"How unfortunate, perhaps we can change that. Our family holds a box at the The Royal Opera and the The Royal Ballet. I believe La clemenza di Tito is showing this weekend, why don't we go see it?" Mycroft suggested.

"Really?! I-...I'd hate to impose."

"Oh no! It would be a pleasure! Is this weekend fine with you mother?"

"Hmm...This weekend?" Mrs. Holmes looked up from the catalog she was reading. "Oh Mycroft! This weekend I have a board meeting. My new design has gotten an offer from two different companies to be on their showcase. These offers could lead to other possibilities. I'm sorry Myc, but the meeting is scheduled in Italy; I'll be gone the entire weekend."

"Oh no! It's fine, Mrs. Holmes! While I'm sure there will be plenty of other operas, this would be a one time only deal!"

Mrs. Holmes beamed approvingly at Elisabeth while Mycroft seemingly appeared unfazed and gave a simple shrug.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon, Sherlock had already returned from school and Mycroft had just gotten off the phone with a business partner of his father who was interested in Mycroft.

Mycroft, who simply sat and listened for the better half of the conversation, came down to the kitchen to get a snack. On his way he passed his mother's study to hear yelling and Sherlock sitting outside the closed doors sulking.

"What did you do this time?" Mycroft asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Why do you su- susp- ect it was about me?"

Mycroft raised the other brow, "When is it not?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and gave a small groan, "It's father, he's phoned mother, apparently it has something to do with me."

"You? What on earth does father want with you?"

"If I knew do you think I would be here now?! They've been arguing for over an hour!"

While most families would worry about what they were arguing about and what to find the easiest way to solve the situation, Mycroft's biggest worry was the bill, with all the calls from Mrs. Holmes' business and Madam Kelley's two hour call the previous day asking if Elisabeth met their exceptions, the electric bill would be plenty higher then usual.

The two boys cringed when they heard their mother raise her voice, nearly screaming into the receiver. Sherlock leaned closer to the door with his ear pressed up against the door. Mycroft rolled his eyes and then joined him pressing his ear up against the door as well.

"I DON'T CARE ELLIOT! HE'S MY BABY-"

"You know, You could always come here!"

"OH YES! Cause I have noooo idea what it's like having to work all time! I forgot for a moment all about that!"

"WELL AT LEAST MY PA ISN'T STILL WORKING FOR ME BECAUSE WE'RE HAVING SEX!"

"Oh please! Everyone knows that!-"

"Oh, I'm the hypocrite! Says the man who- "

"We just got a nanny and I want Sherlock to get used to her-"

"It might have something to do with the work that drags me around the world that, apparently, I know NOTHING about!"

An hour later, Mrs. Holmes emerged from her study with a blistering headache. She rang a bell and Dina came to the call.

"Dina, please have Sherlock come here, I need to speak with him."

"Yes ma'am, but why didn't you just ask him to come in?"

"Because I've been busy Dina, I need Sherlock here-"

"But he is here ma'am, I just saw him and Mycroft leave."

Mrs. Holmes sighed, her conversations with her ex-husband always ended up with the yelling and/or throwing things at each other. Aithley always tried to keep these arguments behind closed doors, she didn't need Sherlock or Mycroft being exposed to all their fighting.

"Well, see if they haven't gone off too far."

"Yes, of course ma'am."

"Dina said you wanted to see me, Mother."

Mrs. Holmes turned to see her youngest son enter her study. "Yes Sherlock, actually, there are two things I wish to speak to you about. The first being about your eavesdropping, I was informed that both you and Mycroft were seen listening in to my conversation with your father. This mustn't happen again, am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Secondly, as you know, your father called; he wishes to see you again. He has already seen your brother and now he wants you to visit."

"But why? He's never there and it's boring!"

Mrs. Holmes sighed, "I understand, but one: he is your father all the same. Two: we both agreed in court that he could still see you once a month. Your father has been very gracious and has not tried to see you during our...Past situations. It is only fair that he sees you now. I've talked with Elliot, and he said either this weekend or over Christmas vacation. So which would you rather, two and a half days or a week and a half?"

Sherlock gave a loud groan, "Fine."

* * *

 


	38. The Tooth

Sherlock stood on a step stool in front of the bathroom mirror examining his mouth. The tooth (Number 6, bottom left) was getting looser, and now there was blood coming from it. He wiggled it a bit and he could see another tooth growing underneath it.  
He remembered how painful it was just to eat breakfast. With every chew of his toast his tooth hurt more and more.

"Sherlock, hurry up! You've been in there all morning!"

"Oh shut it, Mycroft!" Sherlock said taking his hand away from his mouth so he could talk properly. Taking one last look at his tooth Sherlock hopped off the stool and unlocked the door.

"About time! I've been waiting over ten minutes! What were you doing in there?"

"None of your business!" And with that, Sherlock hurried out of the bathroom and into his room to gather his things for school.

"What did you bring for lunch?" John asked Sherlock during their lunch break. "I've got a PB&J sandwich, what do you got?"

"A Peanut Butter and Banana sandwich. Wanna trade?"

"Sure!"

After switching sandwiches, Sherlock bit into the sandwich hitting a soft banana piece, "OW!"

"Lock, what's wrong?"

"I- I don't know...It usually only hurts when I eat something hard..." Sherlock opened his mouth and touched his tooth, "It's even more wiggly!"

"M-Maybe we should tell someone..."

"No! They'll pull it out!"

"Okay...Can I at least look at it?"

Sherlock considered it for a moment and then opened his mouth wide for John to look inside. John looked inside Sherlock's mouth and found the tooth almost immediately. John gasped when he saw red saliva coming from the tooth.

"Sherlock, you're bleeding!"

Sherlock's eyes rose and his body went ridged. Inside his mind he was having an internal battle over whether or not to tell someone, "B- bleeding? Is it bad?"

"Well...It's only bleeding a little...C-Can I touch it?"

Sherlock felt John's tiny fingers gently brush against his tooth. Suddenly, he felt something snap; it wasn't a hurting kind of snap, but more like when you pull a loose hair from your head, or when you rip a piece of grass in half from top to bottom.

"Wh't h'ppen?!" Sherlock asked as he kept his mouth open. He looked at John who had a look of horror written all over his face.

"I- I DIDN'T MEAN IT! I swear I only touched it a little!" John said with tiny tears slowly building in his eyes.

"J-John..."

Sherlock looked down and slowly closed is mouth. Sitting in John's hand was a small tooth covered in blood. Sherlock stared at the tooth with wide eyes. He reached out and took the tooth in between his thumb and index finger. He brought the tooth up to his face and looked it over.

After inspecting the tooth, he put a finger in his mouth and felt the place where the tooth once was. He could feel the bigger tooth just peeping over from his gums. When he took his finger out there was a small trace of blood on it.

"MR. MATTHEWS!" John yelled as he stood up and raised his hand. Sherlock was too mesmerized with the small tooth in his hands to realize what John had done.

Mr. Matthews walked over to the two boys and stood behind them, "What's wrong, John?"

"Sherlock's tooth came out! And he's bleeding!" John said as he pointed to the tooth sitting in Sherlock's hand.

Mr. Matthews bent down and looked at the tooth in Sherlock's hand. "This is your first tooth you lost Sherlock?"

Sherlock nodded as he looked up at the teacher. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do. I'll have one of the student's from Mrs. Morten's classroom take you to the bathroom. Sherlock, I want you to get a paper-towel and get it nice and wet and hold it on the spot where your tooth was until you stop bleeding, okay?"

Mr. Matthews stood up and got a small plastic cup and filled it halfway up with water, "John, while Sherlock is gone, why don't you watch over his tooth for him? We'll leave it right here at his seat so it will be here for him once he gets back. The water in the cup will help clean off the blood, alright?"

John watched as Mr. Matthews took Sherlock's hand and led him out of the classroom. Once they were gone, John stared at the cup, he wasn't going to let anything happen to Sherlock's tooth.

"MUUUUMMMMMMMMY!" Sherlock yelled once he got home.

He looked around and saw that the lights were on in his mother's study. He ran over to the french doors and moved the curtains on them to look inside. In the study, he saw his mother talking on her phone while writing something down.

Perfect! Thought Sherlock, She's no talking with anyone! The boy opened one of the french doors and walked over towards where his mother was sitting at her desk.

"Mummy look!" Sherlock said as he raised his hand that carried the tooth for his mother to see.

"Not now Sherlock, can't you see Mummy's busy?"

"But mummy! Something happened at school today! John and I were having lunch when I felt-"

"Not now Sher, why don't you go tell Mycroft about it? I think he's still in the drawing room."

Sherlock closed up his hand over his tooth. He watched as his mother turned away writing something down on a piece of paper as she listened to whoever was talking to her on the other end of the phone. Sherlock sighed. Realizing that his mother would only become more annoyed, he left and went to go find his older brother.

Mycroft, just as his mother had said, was sitting in the drawing room going over some papers. Next to him on a side table was a stack of files and papers from places and companies Sherlock had never heard of. He knew his brother would be leaving soon to go away and visit the university he would be attending, but Sherlock hadn't a clue on where the university was.

"Mycroft...Are you busy?"

Sherlock could still remember the last time he bothered his brother when he was going over stuff for school. His brother had yelled at him and threw him over his shoulder, carried him up to his room and locked him in using a chair.

Mycroft sighed as he looked up from his papers, "What is it Sherlock?"

Sherlock took a step back, he began to retreat towards the stairs, "N-Nothing, never mind."

"No, you've already gotten my attention. What do you want?" Mycroft's bored expression was soon taken over by an exhausted one. His eyes blinked owlishly as he rubbed a bit of sand out of them.

"Ummm...It's nothing really, but today in class...Ilostmyfirstooth." Sherlock stood in the doorway waiting for Mycroft to react.

Mycroft was always a mystery to Sherlock; he could never be sure how he would react. Sometimes he would be overprotective and try to parent Sherlock. Other times, he was an annoying older brother who would gladly trade Sherlock for a chocolate cake. There were times when Mycroft would take interest in the simple everyday things Sherlock did, and other times when the simple things became...Dull.

Mycroft's face went blank, he blinked once, then twice. For a full three minutes neither boy moved or made any kind reaction towards the other. Mycroft was the one who finally broke the silence.

"That's-...That's very good...*Cough* Does mother know?"

"Umm...yeah, I told her first. She was busy and told me to tell you..."

Mycroft nodded in understanding, "Yes, well, I've been told that most children place the teeth they lose under their pillows for some fairy to take in exchange for money. You may do as you wish."

The face Sherlock pulled nearly made Mycroft laugh out loud. Had it not been for the fact that Sherlock was only seven years old, Mycrof might have taken offense to it. Sherlock's face clearly screamed that he thought Mycroft was an idiot for even suggesting about some 'tooth fairy.'


	39. What's a Weekend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling particularly generous today and am giving you another chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Sherlock sat patiently in his seat; class was beginning in ten minutes and the only other kid in the room was some boy who Sherlock didn't bother to remember his name. It had been the first time in months that Sherlock's mother had brought him to school, and to say that it was awkward would be an understatement.

The whole car ride was filled with uncomfortable tension. Aithley would eye her son and try to make conversation with him while Sherlock would stare out the car window and reply back to his mother with one word answers.

It was the last day of school before the winter holiday, and Sherlock wasn't the slightest bit excited. This weekend he had promised John that he would go with him to some 'block party' his neighborhood was having, Mycroft was taking Elisabeth to the opera and the next week he would be spending Christmas with his father.

Sherlock snapped his head up as he heard the scraping of the chair next to him against the carpet floor. A tired looking Cathy sat next to him hunched over and buried her head in her arms.

Sherlock glanced over her and began his deductions, "You were up late last night because your grandparents were in town. Your father doesn't get along with your grandmother and they were fighting about...how you did your hair?"

Cathy, without looking up, nodded, keeping her head buried.

"And you don't like how your grandmother did your hair...?"

Cathy's head suddenly snapped up, her eyes were red and tear-rimmed, "My brother said I look like a monkey!" and then plopped her head back down into her folded arms.

To Sherlock, the five minutes he had to wait for John to arrive was an eternity. As it turned out, the other kid in the room was a boy named Clay.

Hand-me-down backpack, his jacket was his older brother's who is in currently in juvie, has trouble with math and his mother and father are divorced.

Sherlock shook his head when he noticed John coming through the classroom door. John is gripping his backpack strip 40% stronger than he does normally; he has something to tell me.

"Guess what Sherlock! We won't be going to the block party!"

Sherlock blinked in surprise, although a block party did sound terribly annoying, it was honestly the one thing he was looking forward to for the weekend. To find out that they were now not going was distressing to say the least.

"How come?"

"Because I got a doctor's appointment that to get my brace off! Well...They said that they were going to look at it and if it's healed enough they were going to take it off!" John's face beamed as he spoke. Having a brace on was very inconvenient, there were so many things that they couldn't do because of it.

"Really?! Hey, does that mean we can go roller skating now?"

"Roller skating?! I...suppose, but what does that have anything to do with this?"

"On our way to school we passed a new roller skating rink. I heard they got a whole kid section with a bounce house and everything!"

"A BOUNCE HOUSE! Yeah, we should our parent's sometime! Or maybe we could get Harry! She'd be with her friends the whole it'd be like it was just us!"

"Perfect! I'll ask my mum about it-"

"But wait Sherlock! There's more! My mum said you could come along to my appointment...You know, if you wanted..."

To his appointment? Why would Sherlock come to his appointment? Sherlock thought about when he would get his yearly check-up. His mother had hired a private doctor to come to their house and would usual look them over in the drawing room. The last time he went to an actually office was when he got an ear infection a few winters back. He remembered how scared he was. The room was pretty intimidating; white walls, big machines hanging on the wall along with different posters that were suppose to 'comfort' him. Was John scared? Maybe getting his brace taken would be painful. His mother had told him he was allowed to bring Sherlock...Which meant that she knew John would be scared. Perhaps it would be good for him to go with John.

"Sure, since we're not going to the party I'll have nothing else to do. Besides, Mycroft is taking my nanny to the opera; I'd rather go anywhere than have to go with them!"

* * *

"Mrs. Gregory!"

Mrs. Gregory was the school secretary, if anything happened to any of the kids, she would know. She was the one who made all the phone calls, had to deal with all the angry parents, moody children and annoyed teachers. If a child wanted to go home with another child on the same or different school bus, they had to call her and she would notify the bus driver, if a child wanted to call their parent they had to go through her.

With all the different grades and so many different students coming and going each day she never really got the chance to 'know' any of them really.

Well...Expect for one.

Sherlock Holmes seemed to have a reputation everywhere. She once went into the teachers' lounge and found the third grade math teacher and the first grade English teacher arguing over if either of them had 'told' anyone. It was at the end of the day she found out that they had been having an affair and one of the students had blurted it out when they went into a classroom to get some extra supplies.

Mrs. Gregory pushed her bangs out of her face as she looked down at the child in front of her. A small curly haired boy stood in front of her with a bag over his shoulder and a scowl upon his face.

"Can I help you Mr. Holmes?" Mrs. Gregory asked sweetly, both she and Sherlock knew how this worked; they'd been over this many times before.

"I need to use the phone."

"May I ask why?"

"No you may not."

"Then no, you may not use the phone."

Sherlock's scowl seemed to intensify, with an annoyed sigh Sherlock gave in. "I need to call my mum, there's been a change in plans and I'm going with the Watson's."

* * *

John sat nervously in their family van with the side door open, waiting for Sherlock.

"What if his mum doesn't let him?" John asked as he looked over towards his mother who was sitting in the front seat filing her nails.

"He was going to come over for the party, so I don't see why not."

"B-but...Maybe we should cancel the appointment...My leg doesn't feel so good..."

"John Hamish Watson! Don't be kidding 'round like that! If your doctor hears that he'll make you kept that brace on longer! If you make anything up during your appointment I'll make you pay the bill!"

John gave a little pout and stuck his bottom lip out while crossing his arms. For the past few days everyone had been on edge at the Watson house. John didn't understand what was going on, but he did notice that Harry kept giving Penelope strange looks across the dinner table last night. Apparently the hot water ran out during Harry's shower and she and Penelope started fighting. John didn't know what the fight was about, but he kept hearing Harry asking about food. Now what food and the hot water running out had in common was beyond John.

"SHE SAID YES! SHE SAID YES!"

John looked up to see his dark haired friend running towards them. With a bright smile on his face, Sherlock began climbing into the Watson's van.


	40. The Link-in Log Cabin

That night Sherlock and John lay on the living room floor at the Watson's house. Because it was the weekend, Mrs. Watson let the boys stay up an extra hour to watch a movie. There was a small fight between which movie when Harry came down and let the boys watch Star Wars as long as they let her watch it as well.

While the boys stayed up and watched the entire movie, Harry fell asleep right after Luke Skywalker, Han Solo and Princess Leia were freed from the garbage room that was enclosing on them and met up with C3PO and R2D2.

The ending music for the credits blasted waking Harry up. The sleeping girl jumped awake and frantically began looking around.

"Wha- What happened?!" Harry said, gathering her wits.

"The movie ended Harry! You fell alseep!" John said from the floor where he and Sherlock were in their sleeping bags.

"Huh? Oh...Well good night boys. Remember! If you say ANYTHING to mum, I'll tell them you took it out of my room without my permission!"

"Fine...and I'll tell Mrs. Watson that you went out last night to a party you were clearly not suppose to go to." Sherlock said with his curls falling onto his face.

"Why you little-" Harry started playfully, she was soon cut off my the sound of the front door flying open and slamming shut.

"Oh god." Harry breathed out.

The two boys sunk further into their sleeping bags and tried to pretend they were asleep. Harry quickly shut the tv off and curled into a ball pretend to be asleep as well.

The three held their breaths as they heard the stomping of boots on the hard wood floor. The stomping continued into the kitchen and they heard the fridge door fly open and one of the drawers open. None of the children dared to make a sounded in fear of booted man who had entered the house.

"PENELOPE!" the boot wearing man shouted. A few seconds letter Mrs. Watson came scurrying down the stairs in her night gown and robe. Her hair was laying on her shoulder twisted into a braid. "Yes dear, what is it?"

"Warm me up something for dinner, I'm taking a shower. Have it ready for when I come out! And don't let it get cold let you did last time!" As Clint spoke he walked up the stairs and to his bedroom.

All was silent in the house, the four people on the first floor of the Watson house breathed a sigh of relief. the three children in the living grew smiles upon their faces once they realized that neither of their parents knew they were up. As Harry slowly stood up the couch let out an almighty groan and the children scrunched up their faces as they waited for Mrs. Watson to piece together the truth.

"Harry, John, Sherlock, I know you're up. Come here for a moment."

* * *

"John, Sherlock, go quickly and quietly gather your things together. Harry, you go put a bag together and wait by the door."

"Mum? What's going on?" Harry said as her mother pushed the three children towards the stairs.

"No time to explain, I'd say it'll take ten minutes for him to turn on the shower to let a warm up, pick out some clothes, and to figure out we're out of warm water."

The children soon realized what was to happen and did as Mrs. Watson told them and did so as quietly as possible. The three children stood at the front door with their backpacks on. "Here Harry, this should be enough money to take you to your uncle and aunt house, now hurry, I called a cab and it should be here any minute. If your uncle or aunt should ask what happen just tell them there was a problem with the water and that I sent you away before telling you anything, understand?"

With that, Mrs. Watson kissed each one on the head and sent them away for the night. Penelope knew that she could deal with what Clint said and that as a mother it was her job to protect her children. Harry and John might not be her biologically; no, she hadn't been pregnant with them for 9 months. No, she wasn't there for either of their first steps, or first words or anything. But she loved them all the same.

* * *

John, Sherlock and Harry sat squished in the backseat of the cab together. Sherlock on the far left side, Harry on the right, and John in the middle. John had been so exhausted from the excitement of the night that he soon fell asleep in the back of the cab and had decided that Sherlock made an excellent pillow.

Neither Harry nor Sherlock said a word the entire time. Sherlock could have made hundreds of deductions at the moment; like that Harry was afraid of her father, she was anger at her mother for making them leave and having to face him alone, or that she was currently feeling conflicted because she was starting to have feeling for a another girl.

Harry could have made comments to Sherlock as well. Like that if he ever spoke about this anyone she'd punch him, or that if he said anything to their aunt and uncle she'd make his life a living hell or that she knew he was just as scared as both she and John.

But neither of them did, not because neither of them wanted to be that cruel towards the other, but because they both knew that the other already knew what they wanted to say, and it would lead to a pointless argument if either said a word.

* * *

Aunt Bess was the one to greet the trio. Since John refused to awake when they arrived, Harry was forced to carry him and plopped him down disgracefully on their Aunt and Uncle's couch. Sherlock looked around the house make his usual deductions, and sat down next to John on the couch as Harry spoke with her aunt about the 'situation'.

Aunt Bess Walker and her husband Brian Walker lived in a small cottage by a lake. They lived deep in some forest, and Sherlock knew the cabby would never admit, but he got lot a few times trying to find it. The house reminded Sherlock of a linkin-log house on the cover of a linkin-log set. The wood was a dark smokey brown with gray stones used for the chimney.

There were five rooms altogether in the house; the kitchen/dinning room, the living room, a bathroom, the master bedroom and a guest room. But even though it was small, it was very cozy. The room was painted light browns and beige's, the couch was soft yet firm and the carpet was made out of real bear fur.

Sherlock sat politely on the couch next to John. He fought against sleep with all his might, but even so, he could feel himself losing the battle. He heard the hush voices of Harry and her Aunt talking in the kitchen. When the two ladies returned into view, Sherlock got a good look at Bess Walker.

Her bright, fiery red hair had been pulled back into a messy ponytail, most likely done last minute. Her dark brown eyes went soft as she took in the sight of the two boys on the couch; one unconsciousness and the other fighting for his consciousness.

It was decided that the two boys would get the guest room bed and Harry would get the couch. The bed in the guest room mad a Twin Size bed with cream colored sheets and a dark reddish brown comforter. The thick blankets seem to swallow the two boys whole until their small mops of hair were the only part of them that was visible.

 


	41. Things Never Change

With Sherlock and John put to bed, Aunt Bess went and got out blankets and a pillow for Harry. In a small linen closet in the hall, Aunt Bess took out a extra comforter they had a thinner blanket in case Harry got hot in the middle of the night. As Harry made her make-shift bed on the couch, her Aunt relight the flames in the fireplace.

"Will you be leaving the morning? Or did your mother want you guys to stay here tomorrow as well. You're welcome to anyways."

"I'm not sure," Harry answered as she pulled back the blankets. "I suppose we'll need to call a cab for Sherlock, and John was suppose to have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Mum will probably call in the morning."

"Harry, this can't go on." Bess Walker spoke with a renewed voice. "This _needs_ to end."

Harry curled into herself once she was settled under the blankets. "You can't tell Aunt Bess. If dad finds out you told we'll most likely never see you again. What's mum suppose to do then? Grandma is in a nursing home, Penelope's parent's living in America, and we haven't spoken to anyone on dad's side of the family since mummy died."

"Did it ever occur to you Harry, that if you did tell, you could be rid of that man? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you're happy? You're okay with what he's doing? Do you even look at that man like he's you're father? Or is he just a man who-"

"STOP. Please Aunt Bess, just stop." Harry had spoken in such a small voice it broke her aunt. Even though Harry's back was turned towards her, Aunt Bess could tell Harry was fighting back tears.

With a small 'Good night', Aunt Bess left the room to join her husband back in bed.

* * *

It must have been have the middle of the night when Sherlock awoke. Mrs. Holmes had always scolded Sherlock about his odd sleeping habits, but they seemed to change. So it was not that Sherlock awoke in the middle of the night that surprised him, but rather what woke him.

Or rather who.

Once fully awaken, Sherlock looked over to see that John was awake and had surrounded himself with the blanket and was sniffling. "John, are you okay?" Sherlock ask as he scooted closer to his friend.

"Lock, I'm scared."

Sherlock wanted to reassure his friend, but he knew he couldn't. So he did the only thing he could do, he wrapped his tiny arms around John. "I know John, but it won't always be like this. One day, we'll get big, and then we can leave and do whatever we wanna do and nobody can stop us! Once we get bigger, we can leave and you won't have to see your father ever again."

"But what about my mum and Harry?"

"Harry's already big, so it won't be long before she can leave and do what she wants. And maybe your mum can come with us. Before Pepe died him and Meme lived with us at our house. So maybe your mum can come with us."

"I'd like that 'Lock."

Exhaustion from that night's events suddenly over took both of the boys and sleep claimed them both.

* * *

The next morning Aunt Bess served them all pancakes and Hot Chocolate. After getting changed and gathering all their stuff, Aunt Bess called a cab and had Sherlock taken home and then drove John and Harry home.

"Shouldn't we call home first?" Harry asked with a shaky voice.

"Harry, it's near noon, if your mum didn't want you guys home yet she'd call. Whether from home, a motel, or a Pay Phone, she'd call."

As they approached the Watson home they saw a police car parked in the drive way. With a quick 'Stay here' from Aunt Bess, she left the car and walked up to the house. Just as Aunt Bess was nearing the front door, the police man came out from the house.

"Umm, hello, I'm sorry but could you please tell what's happened? I'm here to drop of the Watson children."

"You said you're here to drop off the kids? Are they in your car now?" asked the policeman.

"Yes, why, do you need to speak with them?"

"If you don't mind ma'am, I'd like to ask the kids a couple of questions."

"I'll go and get them."

As Aunt Bess got Harry and John out of her car, Penelope appeared standing by the front door. Her hair was pulled to the side in a braid and she was still in her night gown and her a robe covering her. There were dark rings under her eyes from her lack of sleep and one of her eyes was slightly swollen.

"Hello Penelope, you okay?" Asked Bess as she left the kids with the officer.

"Alight, I hope the kids weren't any trouble. I know it was bit late, but I needed them out of the house."

"You did the right thing. Harry was a bit shaken by the whole thing, but John was sleep the whole time."

There was tension filled silence as the two women stood together at the door. It was now clear to Bess that Penelope was wearing cover-up around her eye. To anyone else it looked as if Penelope had allergies or perhaps had something she was allergic to. But to Bess it was clear what had happened. Now the only question left was if it was clear to the officer.

"You called him here, didn't you?" Penelope asked without making any eye contact towards Bess.

"Yes." Was that Bess said, and all that she needed to say.

Penelope knew Bess Walkers opinion on the matter. The fact of the matter was Bess had even questioned her at the wedding. The rest of the Watson family had lost connect with Clint over the years as he grew more and more depressed over Clara's death. And when a few did reconnect with him at the wedding to meet his new wife, they could all tell something was different about him.

The Walker family was Clara's side of the family. The only people who knew what Clint was doing to them was Bess and her husband. It was one day when Clint and Penelope were at work, Penelope over a friends house and The walkers were watching John when Bess discovered a bruise on John's side. When she asked about it John said that he fell off his bike. Bess probably would have believed him, the bruise wasn't that big and was in a place where John very well could have hit if he fell off his bike. There was only one small flaw in John's lie.

He didn't know how to ride a bike.

Bess soon went through every possible way John might have received the bruise. He would right out say 'no' to ever situation in which his Aunt was incorrect. But when Aunt Bess asked him if his father gave it to him, John froze up and began shying away leaving his Aunt with a shrug for an answer.

Penelope's family, the Miller family, was spread all across England and only contacted her on holidays, birthday, etc.

Soon John, with his backpack hanging from his shoulder, came limping over in a running sort of fashion.

"Why was there a policeman here?" John asked as he reached the front door.

"Never you mind, why don't you go up stairs and play. I had to cancel your appointment so don't you worry about anything, alright?"

With a quick nod John ran to his room.

* * *

Harry came over a few minutes later and with a slight smile towards Penelope left them and went up to her own room. The officer came over a few minutes later as well after checking over his notes.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you ma'am. If you have _any_ problems, please don't hesitate to call. Here's our stations phone number and our address. If you do happen to be in need of our serves just tell them Jack told you to call. Good day ma'am."

And with that he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not know anything about how Police officers conduct an investigation. So please do not please any reviews cussing me out because I got it all wrong (Do they have to be at a police station? Don't they have to have their partner with them? I don't know!)


	42. Are You My Daddy?

 

Sherlock sat slouch over in the back seat of his father's car. He looked up into the rear view mirror and glared at Douglas. No matter what day, the time, nor who he was driving, Douglas was always grumpy. But today seemed different; if possible, Douglas seemed grumpier.

Sherlock looked over the window and watched as the sun began to set. Since his visit had been short with John, someone had informed Mr. Holmes who had his driver pick Sherlock up earlier. He wasn't suppose to arrive at his father's house until that night, now he was arriving in the late afternoon, and with the sun setting earlier then usual, it would mean Sherlock would be forced to stay indoors and be completely bored the entire time. Maybe he could experiment on how fast he could annoy Douglas, that always seem to bring Sherlock pleasure.

As they pulled up to his father's flat Sherlock noticed a moving van parked outside the door being loaded. There were a group of men going both in and out the front door bringing out boxes and piece of furniture and putting inside the van.

"Now listen kid, when you get inside you're going straight up to the spare room and wait there until dinner's ready. We're hoping to finish loading the van by nightfall and we don't need you getting in the way. These men aren't getting paid to be your personal entertainment, so leave them alone! You are to stay quiet and for god's sake behave yourself!"

As he said this, Douglas parked the car behind the van on the other side of the porch. Douglas went around and opened the car door for Sherlock and grabbed him by the wrist. He nearly dragged Sherlock all the way to the door, but Sherlock was able to slip his hand out of the older man's grasp when they had to stop while some men carrying a couch came out the door.

The first thing Sherlock noticed when they entered the flat was how empty it was. The living area was completely emptied while the kitchen still held a few appliances they would need for meals. When they passed the Master bedroom, Sherlock noticed his father's room was almost the same as the rest of the house; empty with only a few necessary things left.

The moment Sherlock shut his door he was uncertain whether to laugh or cry. His room, or rather the guest room, was exactly the same as ever. No personal items, nothing to decorate it with; No, only that which was necessary. There, up against the middle of the back wall, was the same dusty old bed with the same dust gray sheets. And there, up against the side all, was the same old faded brown closet, empty and ready to be filled with Sherlock or whoever was to sleep there thing's.

* * *

It was nearly an hour later that he was called downstairs. The men and there van were gone; unsurprisingly. But what was surprising was that Douglas was gone as well. There in the kitchen stood Elliot Holmes next to the stove cooking dinner. From the smell that was coming from the kitchen he was cooking some sort of pasta.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, could you set the table?"

Sherlock nearly blinked in surprise; his father looked pleasant, like he actually enjoyed Sherlock's presence and wasn't put off by him. Sherlock stood frozen on spot and gave an owlish look.

When Mr. Holmes heard no movement from his son, he turned around and gave him an amused yet confused expression. "Anything wrong Sher?"

Sher

His father hadn't called him that since before the divorce. But it wasn't just the name that sent shivers down Sherlock's back; it was his voice. His father sounded honestly pleased, like none of the anger was there and all unresolved tension had suddenly melted away. It sounded almost sweet, as if he were actually talking to his seven-year-old son and not the boy who didn't know how to keep his mouth shut and ruined his reputation, marriage, and nearly lost him his business.

Sherlock walked stiffly towards cabinet in the kitchen and pulled out two plates and set them on the small table in the kitchen. He then walked over and got out to cups and did the same. As he went to a drawer for some silverware, he could hear his father pouring them each a drink; milk for Sherlock and a type of flavored water that was suppose to full of vitamins and such.

Elliot Holmes smiled down at his son as Sherlock took his seat and he served them each a helping of pasta.

"So, how's school been?"

Sherlock nearly faltered when the question was asked. Normally conversation at the dinner table was forbidden between them. This was because the last real one had led to Sherlock exposing his father in front of his mother and another attempts that had been made after that were usually Elliot shushing Sherlock to behave himself at a restaurant.

Sherlock glanced up once and shoved his food into his mouth.

"Good."

The conversation carried on much like this. Elliot would ask a question and Sherlock would answer back with a single word.

"Made any friends?"

"One."

"What's his name?"

"John."

"Have you met his family?"

"Yes."

"How are they?"

"Nice."

"You and Mycroft getting along?"

"Yes."

"How is your new nanny?"

"Good."

"What's her name?"

"Elisabeth."

Elliot remembered a time when he had suggested getting one to his ex-wife. She had immediately scolded him and began telling him a story about how a business partner of her's had gotten scammed by her nanny.

"Do you like her?"

"Kinda."

Elliot could only imagine his son's opinion on getting a nanny. He could almost see his son's famous scoff and roll his eyes at the poor girl who would try with all her might to teach and train Sherlock to behave like an actually gentleman. He made a silent bet in his head that the girl won't last more then a month, maybe two, depending on how well they were paying her.

* * *

After dinner the surprises continued on. His father told Sherlock to go upstairs and to get his socks, shoes and coat on while he took care of the dishes. Sherlock couldn't see to figure out why, normally his father would send him upstairs for bed and then come up at 8:40 exactly to turn out his light; regardless of what state Sherlock was in.

When Sherlock came back down he had his snickers one and he was trying to zip up his coat while going down the stairs at the same time, which is very hard if you're only seven years old.

Sherlock found his father waiting for him in what was the living room area. When Elliot noticed his son's struggle with his jacket, he bent down to help him. After zipping Sherlock up, Elliot opened the door for Sherlock and led him down to the first floor.

As they left the house Sherlock looked around expecting a car to roll up. Instead he watched as his father went down to the edge of the road and hailed a cab. Sherlock stared in wonder as the black cab pulled open and his father opened the cab door for him. Once they were both seated they looked out their windows and watched as the world went by them.

"I haven't take a cab in years." Elliot said breaking the silence. "I forgot how much I loved them. Not having to watch the road, other cars or people crossing. Just sitting back and watching everything fly right by you."

It felt like years since Sherlock had last seen his father looked so relaxed. Ever since That Night Elliot always seem to be tense around Sherlock, as if he was a ticking time bomb about to go off. It never made any sense to Sherlock. It was like one day his father knew him inside and out and the next they were complete strangers. How could someone change so much? What was only three years ago felt like only yesterday whenever Sherlock was around his father. The wounds seemed to be still fresh as the day they were made.

His father confused him greatly. Had everything between them been fake? If so, why did he still insist that Sherlock visit him? What was the point of it all? But most of all, why was Elliot suddenly being kind to him? Sherlock already knew about the move, he knew Noami was gone, so what was he trying to ''butter" Sherlock up for?

"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked after a few moments of more silence.

"Well, since this will be my last night in town I thought maybe we'd go see a movie. Your pick, There's that new _Star Wars_ movie, a friend of mine recommend _Superman_ , or, if you promise not to tell your mother...we could go see that new shark movie _Jaws._

Sherlock carefully thought over his choices, even though in his mind, he already knew what movie he was going to pick. If he wanted to watch Star Wars, he could just wait for it to come out on VHS and have Harry sneak it down for him and John to watch, plus John would kill him if he spoiled the movie for him.

Sherlock had seen a trailer for the Superman movie. It seemed like every other movie though, an ordinary man turns out to be some kind of hero, saves earth, defeats the villain, and gets the girl. BORING!

But a shark movie...

"I guess we could see if the shark movie is any good..."

Interesting.


	43. Don't You forget About Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me if you see some mistakes, I just lost my beta so if you see anything misspelled or written differently please don't hesitate to say something! I might not get around to fixing that second, but I do try and make sure to fix anything so people who might read it later on will enjoy it better. 
> 
> Thank you.

"Dina, you don't have to do this. I'm perfectly capable at dressing myself."

Elisabeth Belle found herself settling quite nicely into the Holmes Manor. When Sherlock wasn't around she found herself bored and asking the other servants for tasks to keep herself busy. With Winter well upon them, Anderson the gardener's only task included shoveling the driveway, which was easily taken care of by a large snow plow Mrs. Holmes paid to come clear their driveway.

Mrs. Marble would quickly put Elisabeth to good use by letting her help Dina with cleaning chores all around the house. During these times Dina and Elisabeth grew quite close. As it turned out, Dina was in a position much like Elisabeth's. She went to school in the morning and came back to the Holmes Manor and did her chores for the rest of the day and had her own room. Dina had been away in America for the past 10 years living with her family. A tragic incident happened which left Dina an orphan. for years she lived with her Aunt in England until about a year ago when her Aunt used her as a bet when she was gambling and lost. Fortunate was in her favor, for the man she who had won her sent her away to a boarding school until he could find some use of her. Five months into the school year she was pulled out and moved to London where she now lived and worked for the Holmes.

Now the two girls were in Dina's room, Elisabeth seated on the bed and Dina searching through her closet.

"Think nothing of it! Mrs. Holmes as been trying to find someone who lived up to Mycroft standards for AGES! If this led to someone Mistress Holmes will probably be on her knees thanking you! And I wanna be right there when it happens! Plus, I've seen in your closet, you own nothing that's fit for an opera!"

"You looked in my closet?!"

"That's besides the point Elisa, you need to- HERE IT IS!"

Dina pulled out a knee-length dress that was white and sleeveless. The top was smooth and had a sweetheart design, while the bottom was in layers.

"Dina...This is gorgeous! It's simply, yet- It'll be prefect!"

"Yup. Now let's get those curlers out! You're gonna look like a star!"

* * *

True to her word, Dina fixed Elisabeth up with every beauty technique she knew. With a white cardigan and shoes that Elisabeth owned, she was ready to go by Eight o'clock. According to Dina, whenever the Holmes went out for the evening they would stop for a light dinner first and then head to the opera house. With the last touch of make-up put on, Dina had Elisabeth go wait in the Drawing room and would get her once the car was ready.

Elisabeth took a deep breath and scolding herself for overreacting.

_Just think of it like a welcome gift. This is a onetime thing. Besides, he's going away to University soon, why would he start a relationship right before he goes away? I'm being an idiot! Stupid teen hormones..._

* * *

Ten minutes after Eight and Elisabeth was beginning to get fidgety. As she sat solemnly on the sofa, dwindling the hem of her dress. There had been no sign of either Dina or Mycroft. The mocking voices in the back of her mind began crawling into her mind.

With the slight shake of her head, Elisabeth cast the voices back to the back of her head and straightened up. But none of this had enough effect on her to stop her dwindling.

Suddenly Dina busted through the doors to say that Mycroft had come home late from a meeting. She said that he would be momentarily.

With a sigh of relief Elisabeth recomposed herself.

* * *

The grandfather look he just struck ten o'clock.

Dina had just finished cleaning the kitchen and was about to head up to her room. Multiple times that night Dina caught herself fantasying what it would be like to be Elisabeth. To roll up to the Opera House, be seated in the Holmes private box, seated next to Mycroft. the lights would dim, and everything was only visible by the fake lanterns and the lighting from the stage. as the singer would begin singing his or her song in the beautiful language of Latin.

_Mycroft would sneak his arm around Elisabeth's shoulders. And as the warmth from Mycroft began to surround her, she would settle herself closer to Mycroft and rest her head on his shoulder. And when the intermission began, while the lighting in the box was still dimmed, Elisabeth would look up at and Mycroft, she would thank him for such a wonderful evening. Mycroft would tell her it was his pleasure. But then Elisabeth would insist, and say that she wished she could repay him. Then Mycroft would lean his head down, and Elisabeth would bring her's closer. And then finally after what seemed like eternity-_

"Once you get your head back on the ground could you bring this plate up to Master Holmes room?"

Dina shook her head, drawing herself from her daydream. "Sorry Mrs. Marble, I'll bring it up right away."

"Good girl, poor Mr. Holmes has been working all day, didn't even stop for dinner. And how many times must I tell you Dina! Stop Calli'n me 'Mrs. Marble', please call me-"

"WHAT! Wait a second! Did you say this was going to MR. Holmes' room? As in Mycroft Holmes?!"

"Who'd ya think? the elder Mr. Holmes?!"

"Wait- Did you say he's been working all this time?"

"Yeah, why?"

Dina shoved the plate back at Mrs. Marbles and ran out from the kitchen. Dina didn't stop until she arrived at the Drawing room and threw open the doors. Her fears were confirmed when she found Elisabeth laying on the sofa, slouched over fast asleep. Dina could already imagine the poor girl's expression when she awoke in the morning to find that she had been stood up. So Dina had Mr. Wilson help her bring Elisabeth up to her room and place her on her bed. Dina got to work removing all the make-up and other accessories they had used to doll Elisabeth up in. Dina carefully got her out of her dress and into her night gown.

Hopefully Dina would convince that Elisabeth that she simply had too much to drink and forgot the whole night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I gotta say, I feel horrible for writing this chapter. Now some of you might not like Elisabeth that much (I'm trying to make her as like able as possible!) but give a chance! Since I already know what's gonna happen, I feel bad for making so much angst! I should probably warn you, I am HORRIBLE at writing romance! If you're reading 'Letting Her Go' (Another of my stories) and think that it's a little dry, it's cause it's my first attempt at romance!


	44. The Logical Assumption

* * *

It was nearing midnight when Elliot Holmes and Sherlock returned back to the flat. After the movie Elliot transparently had a whole night of fun planned out. By the time Sherlock returned home he was carrying a giant teddy bear, a T-shirt that was too large for him, a small goldfish in a bag, and a large pirate hat that covered half of his head because it to was too big for him. Sherlock's face was painted to look like a skull and he had a red balloon tied to his wrist.

"Did you have fun today Sher?" Elliot asked as he helped carry Sherlock's things to the spare room.

"That was the best! Can we do this again sometime?" Sherlock asked with his eyes gleaming.

"Will see Sher, I'm gonna be real busy with my moving and settling in and starting my work at the new building. It might be awhile, but we'll see."

Once dropping everything onto the floor, Sherlock got out his clothes and ran to the bath to get ready for bed. When Sherlock returned he saw that his father had put all his things in the corner of the room all together and ready for him for when he would return home. Sherlock climbed into bed and scurried under his covers.

As he rested his head he left someone fixing his blankets. When Sherlock looked up he saw his father tucking him in and placing the giant teddy bear next to him. Before leaving the room, Sherlock's father bent over and placed a small kiss on his forehead.

"Night Sher."

"Night daddy."

* * *

After a few harsh words from Mrs. Marble, Dina was forced to bring up Mycroft's plate to his room where he was working. Maybe it was the way she stomped up the stairs, or perhaps it was the way she knocked a bit harder than she usually did, or the way she almost dropped the plate of food on Mycroft's lap nearly missing the desk he was working at. Whatever it was, Mycroft cringed in realization that their house maid was anger with him and that she had chosen him to take it out on.

"Alright Dina, what seems to be the problem. You're upset and that means your work won't likely be done properly until you've vented it all out or has been resolved otherwise, so you might as well come out with it."

Dina stood next to Mycroft's desk and looked beyond Mycroft out the window, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I apologize for my attitude, sir. But I feel I should warn you, if my attitude has disrupted you tonight, then Miss. Belle's attitude tomorrow will disturb you greatly."

"And why might that be Dina?"

"She had made plans with someone tonight that she had been looking forwards to. Unfortunately the, pardon the expression, utter dickhead stood her up and completely forgot about her."

"Hmmm...I don't remember Elisabeth asking for the night off. Although she won't be technically working for us until the New Year, mother is still paying her. How every rude of her." Mycroft had yet to turn his head to acknowledge Dina. He remained cast down, buried in his work.

"I believe she had agreed to go to the Opera House, as her escort's family had a private box there."

When Dina had first started speaking, Mycroft did what he always did, tuned her right out and pretended to listen. It was only when the part about the 'dickhead' came into the conversation then he starting paying attention.

"Dina...What time is it?"

"I'm not sure. Last I checked it was sometime past ten. Of course I can't be sure, after i checked the time I had to have Mr. Wilson help me to put Miss. Belle to bed and then bring your food up here. So between then and now who knows how much time has passed."

And with that Dina stormed out of the room, not that Mycroft noticed. No, his mind was busy splitting in two different directions.

Mycroft turned back in his head to remember that when he returned home he had gone straight up to his room to change and found a letter that was almost past the due date for when the original sender wanted an answer. So with a quick strokes of a pen, Mycroft got the letter out and was about to go back to getting ready. That was until he found a paper with the wrong information on it that would need to be rewrite before getting sent out. As Mycroft looked over his desk he found that an envelope had already been prepared for the letter.

Soon one thing turned to another and Mycroft had completely lost track of time and soon forgot about the young lady waiting for him in the drawing room.

Mycroft began scolding himself, he began to try and think up excusing for the nest morning when Elisabeth would awake to find that she had no memories of the Opera the previous and realize it was because she had never gone.

But while the young boyish spirit in Mycroft wanted to find any excuse he could use that might bring Elisabeth to perhaps forgive him, another voice in his mind grew bored of the situation and simply shrugged it off.

_This is our work, it will one day become our life. You can't live without work. Without work you have no money, without money you can't afford to live, and when you can't afford to life to become useless. In a few years time, how will going to the opera with some servant girl have helped you? Will it get you higher up in your work? Will it make the work easier? Will it help the work to go faster? Will it help to fix some need? No, so why does it matter?_

The work was important, it was logical.

If Mycroft was to say he depended on anything, that thing would be logic.

Logic was sensible, it was dependable, and it simply was. It was calm in the midst of a storm and a light in the darkness. Anything that wasn't logical was out of control and a burden. Illogical things were a hindrance and only made things more difficult. Logic was never rash and made perfect sense. It was understandable and simple. It was never messy and gave perfect guidance. With it came knowledge, and if you were lucky enough, wisdom. When applied, it made things clearer, and removed the fogginess of emotions and sentiment. If never betrayed you and was a tool that could be used in almost all situations.

Logic simply was.

So, it was logical that something that would benefit his future was more important than a fling for a night. Elisabeth had come to the Homes Manor looking for work, in which Mycroft's mother provided. That work had nothing that connects it to Mycroft besides relations. When Mycroft had suggested they go the opera, he had not only invited Elisabeth, but his brother and mother as well. But they had declined his offer because they were already engaged for that day. So was it really such a surprise, when both his mother and younger brother were busy, that his own business should come up as well? Certainly not!

Elisabeth was there to look after Sherlock when no one else could. Not to be pampered and treated like a guest. She was servant; the sooner she learned that the better. That was how people lost their jobs every day, they forgot there place and got out of line.

They forgot they could be easily replaced.

So, where was the logic in becoming attached to someone who could be easily replaced? Nowhere. Mycroft found that deep within himself, there was still the lonely little boy who was still seeking out friendship. Treating Elisabeth like a guest rather than a servant was a mistake. It was his way of ensuring friendship. If he treated her like a guest, an equal, she was be sure to treat with him sentiment, to ensure that she wouldn't lose her status and be brought down.

This was better, much kinder than putting the wrong ideas into her head. Young ladies could be so foolish at times when it came to relationships. They could misunderstand the smallest things and make the biggest deal out of it.

This was logical.

* * *

The back seat of a certain cab was crammed with only two people, but also with a giant bear, small stuff animals, a bunch of balloons and two suitcases. According to his father, Douglas was had already been sent over to America and was helping to get the new house ready for Elliot's arrival.

So it was that Sherlock's father had called a cab to take them Holmes Manor and then to the airport. When Sherlock asked, his father told him that Sherlock's next visit he would have to take a plane out to America and would be staying at his house in Florida, and always said something about Walt Disney World.

Much to Sherlock's surprise, he found himself actual quite saddened about his father move and having to leave him to soon.

That morning when Sherlock woke up, he was surprise to find that his father had made Hot Chocolate with mini marshmallows and Chocolate Chip pancakes. After breakfast, his father took his out to a zoo and bought him one balloon of each color. Sherlock was no becoming suspicious that his father was busying him all this stuff just to get his mother angry. When he voiced this the two shared a heart filled laugh and went back to looking at the elephants.

When the cab stopped in front of the manor, Mr. Wilson and Dina were ones to meet them. Much to their shock, Sherlock seem to completely ignore them and was business hugging his father goodbye as they took his things inside.

"When will I get to see you again?" Sherlock asked into his father's neck as he hugged him tightly.

"As soon as I'm unpacked, and settle down, I'll call your mother and see about when I get to see you again."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Sher."

"Bye daddy, I love you." With that Sherlock pecked a kiss on his father's check.

"Love you too Sher.


	45. A Christmas Story

Christmas time came upon the Holmes and Watsons in the blink of an eye. After many phone calls and invites, the Watsons planned to have a large family gathering. A few of Penelope's family members were planning to come and Clint had going to get in touch with a few of his relatives. They all agreed to spend Christmas at the Watson home.

The Holmes was in a similar situation. Aithley was busy contacting her family to see who would be coming and who wouldn't. Mycroft had barely been seen during this time. At dinner one night he announced that he would be leaving once the New Year started and would be visiting different Universities. He would return home at the end of January so he could finish up his last year. And if Sherlock was angry that his brother would be missing his birthday, he didn't let them know.

Sherlock was too confused to notice the subtle changes Christmas brought on. Ever since his visit with his father he found that he very much missed his father, and became sadden that he was moving. This confused Sherlock greatly, yes he did miss his father, any child would, but after his parents had gotten a divorce, his father had allows been cold towards Sherlock, which lessened Sherlock's loss greatly. But ever child has that one special place in their heart, that one place only a father can fill. So was it really that much of a surprise when Elliot began to show Sherlock kindness, Sherlock would bask in it?

"We'll be having Esteban's family joining us for Christmas so we'll need some extra rooms cleaned out. They'll be arriving Christmas eve so we'll need to make we have more servings than usual."

Aithley Holmes spoke to Mr. Wilson one morning, it was one of the few mornings they ate together as a family, or, at least their version of a family. Esteban was upstairs still abed; he had been away on business and only returned last night. Mycroft, who seem to become attached to his paper work, had brought his work to the table only taking bites of his food when he had to put his pen down to review what he had written.

Elisabeth had been trying to have as little contact with Mycroft, or Mr. Holmes as she had started calling him, as possible. After Sherlock came home from school Elisabeth usually tried to persuade him into coming outside and playing in the snow with her. Normally she failed and would sit on Sherlock's bed and read a book while Sherlock would perform an experiment.

During meals she would request to sit next to Sherlock and would talk in hushed tones only to Sherlock. Normally Sherlock would find this annoying, but the fact that he got someone to pay him attention nearly 24/7 and it annoyed Mycroft was like his own personal Christmas everyday.

Aithley, of course, was completely oblivious to it all. Consumed with her work and marriage, she started to drift away from her children.

* * *

Harry Watson and Clara were looking through a store at the mall. Both girls wanted a new dress for Christmas, Clara's family owned a small drug store and since business had been good this year her father gave her some money to buy a new dress. Harry had brought the subject up one night at dinner as a comment to something Penelope had said. To the shock of the whole family, Client reached into his pocket and handed Harry some money and told her to 'buy something nice'.

"Oh! Maybe we should get matching dressing!" Clara suggested as she looked over a short red dress with sparkles on it.

"I don't know, I mean, what if one of us wants to wear it again at a dance or something? It'd be odd, ya know?"

"Yeah, I get ya. Oh Harry! This dress would look PERFECT on you!" Clara pulled a green leather dress off the rack. It was strapless and brought out Harry's broad shoulders nicely. While the top was a bit tight, the bottom opened up to wide skirt. Harry thought it looked a bit to 'grown-up' for her likening, but Clara insisted as she pointed out that the frills on the ends gave it a girly touch.

So while Harry bought the dress, Clara went to try on a long red dress that went all the way down to her feet and came out into a full skirt bottom. The top had a single strap that went around her neck. In the center of the top and on the sides of the skirt were roses that were stitched in.

Once Harry had her dress all bagged and ready, she stood outside the changing room waiting for Clara.

*Knock**Knock*

"Clara, you almost ready?"

"Just a sec! I had a little trouble with the zipper- There!"

Harry eyed her friend as she came out of the changing room in her dress. "What'd ya think?"

"You look hot!"

"HARRY! Stop it!" Clara giggled as she went back into the changing room.

"So you really think I should get it?" Clara said as she slipped out of the dress.

"Oh yeah! You'll definitely impress- What's-his-face?"

"It's Jessie, and I'm trying to impress him, he likes you anyways."

"Not like it matters, he's annoying and I'm pretty sure he already has a girlfriend. Now hurry up! I want to get home before dinner, and I'm sure _someone_ wants to get home before her mother find out her daughter used her curlers and forgot to put them away, again."

"DANG IT!"

* * *

The Holmes family sat in the drawing room around their brightly light Christmas tree. The tree was decorated with glowing white lights and ornaments the colors of silver and gold. A Bright glowing star was sitting on the very top of the tree looking down at the solemn family. While most children would wake at the crack of dawn and race down the stairs to open their presents, the Holmes children weren't to leave their rooms until after 7 am and were not allowed to touch their presents until everyone had ate breakfast, showered and was dressed.

Uncles, Aunts, cousin, grandparents, everyone who had come to visit was now sitting by the tree, each taking their turn; opening one present at a time.

All the children were off playing their presents; the adults were talking enjoying the fresh eggnog. Sherlock sat on the floor next to the settee looking over a bug-catching kit his Uncle got him. The kit was obviously made for younger children, as the entire set was made from cheap plastic. Although Sherlock seriously doubted the kits ability to help capture insects, he would melt the plastic and use it for an experiment, so it wasn't a complete waste.

Just as Sherlock was about to ask his mother if they owned a small burner set he could use, his Meme tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sherlock dear, could you please come with me? There's something I want to show you."

So Sherlock stood up from the floor and followed his Meme to the spare bedroom she was using. His Meme moved slowly and gracefully. Ever since his Pepe had died, his Meme had seen to slowly start fading. Instead of her usual brightened spirit and outspoken self, she stayed quiet and more reserved. Her usual straight-tight buns that she would tie her hair into soon became messy and lopsided. She became noticeably paler and skinner, but even through all this, she kept her appearance up.

Sherlock climbed onto her bed and sat cross-legged in the middle of the pillows. He watched as his Meme began going through her trunk and pulled out a small case. Sherlock's eyes light up, he knew exactly what was inside this case. The case was oddly shaped with one side largely rounded that went into a smaller circle until it reached the top which straight yet rounded as well.

With a loving smile, his Meme presented the case to him. "It was your Pepe's, he use to play it late at night whenever he had something he needed to think about. When I asked him about it he said that music helped dull his mind to the outside and give him complete focus on whatever he was thinking about."

Sherlock opened the case and inside laid a Stradivarius violin. It was in prime condition and had been recently polished. In the top part of the case lay two bows that were in just as good as condition. The strings had been replaced and a small piece of cloth for cleaning lay folded up at the bottom of the case.

Sherlock stared gaping at the violin and shook his head and attempted to close his mouth. Sherlock's face was the picture of pure awe. His blue eyes were wide and his eyebrows were raised high. Small sounds in an attempt speak came out of Sherlock's.

His Meme gave an amused laugh, it wasn't often someone could leave Sherlock speechless. When Sherlock finally did recover from his surprise, he sprung into his Meme's arms and wrapped his arms around her neck in a tight hug.

"I love it! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"Haha, I'm glad you do! Just _try_ not to annoy your mother or brother! I'm sure your mother doesn't want to have to call me all the way in Paris, long distance calls do cost money ya know!"

* * *

The Watson family sat in their living room looking through their presents. They had gone through all the presents except for the last ones that their grandma had brought. Harry tried her hardest to keep a straight face as she opened her presents. It was a pair of long bright red socks with reindeer on them.

"Geee, thanks gran! They'll go perfectly with the new shirt Aunt Janice gave me."

John, being the young boy he was, wasn't as skilled an actor. To his sister's horror, his reaction to his gandmother's gift was completely genuine. As the seven year old opened his gift he pulled out a green and red jumper. Harry watched as John's eyes went wide and a gasp came out of his mouth.

"I LOVE IT!"


	46. The Birthday Party

Eight years old.

He, William Sherlock Scott Holmes was turning eight years old today. This very day, January 6th. John would be coming over that afternoon to keep Sherlock company until the party and then they would have a sleep-over that night.

Sherlock was positively beaming that morning. He and Elisabeth had been planning out the entire party and now she had promised him that she would get a pirate piñata with a surprise. She had also promised him that she would pick up a movie. It was a book in Elisabeth's room that caught Sherlock's attention. At first he sneered and called it 'completely impossible and ridiculous'. But after hearing that John also had the book he marched into Elisabeth's room, plopped down on her bed and read the book.

All that night Sherlock asked question after question about it. Finally Elisabeth grew tired and told him to go watch the movie. He then promptly demanded that someone get it for him to watch when John came over. After a scolding from Elisabeth ( _"I don't care if it's a order from the Queen herself! I'm your nanny not your servant and I shall not be treated as one!" "I'll get mummy to pay you an extra twenty pounds this month.""...Deal."_ ), she agreed to get him the movie.

So that is why Elisabeth found herself at the store in the freezing cold looking for a copy of _Willy Wonka and Chocolate Factory._

Elisabeth had voiced the idea of an actual party one night when Mrs. Holmes had joined them for dinner and said that it would be a great way for Sherlock to meet their new relatives on Mr. Ricardo's side of the family. Mrs. Holmes quickly agreed and sent out the invitations immediately.

Since they were now officially on winter break, Sherlock hadn't seen John since he had slept over his house before Christmas. Apparently both mothers's wanted their 'babies' there for their visiting families.

There was only one thing that bugged Elisabeth, Mycroft was still visiting different Universities.

After the whole Opera incident, she and Mycroft silently agreed never to mention or bring it up again and only to have contact with each other when they must. Although it was mandatory for Elisabeth to eat with the family, she and Mycroft happily agreed to have no contact with each other during any meals.

No one seem to catch on, Elisabeth guessed that with her caring for Sherlock everyone must have thought she simply had her hands full and didn't have time for anything else. To a certain extent, they were right. Taking care of Sherlock was a full time job. But she definitely had time for other things.

There had been a few run-ins with 'Mr. Holmes' that left them both making awkward small talk.

Elisabeth cringed at the memory; it had been a very uneventful day. Sherlock had just gotten home from school and insisted she help him with an experiment. As Sherlock got out his supply he realized he left his glasses in the kitchen and ran down to get them. Not a minute after he left Mycroft came in looking for Sherlock. With an awkward cough, Elisabeth informed him that Sherlock was in the kitchen and that he would be back in a moment. As they waited Mycroft began ask her how her day was and if she was 'settling' are right.

Had Mycroft not been the son of her employer, the person who all but signed her pay check, and had Sherlock not walked in at that precise moment, Elisabeth was sure she would have blow-up and started and full on argument that would have ended with one of with a bloody nose.

Shaking herself out of the memory, Elisabeth found the movie and went to go pay for it.

* * *

"So, you don't even know most of them?" John asked as he set down his backpack next to the bed in the guest room he and Sherlock were going to use.

"No, besides you, Cathy and my cousin they're all going to be either related to Mr. Ricardo or an offspring of one of mummy's business friends."

"Offspring?"

"It means someone's or something's child."

"Oh."

John looked over towards the bed Sherlock would be using. There upon the green sheets was a dark blue suit with a white dress shirt set out. Laid out by the collar of the suit was a white crisp bow tie and matching white socks that would go up to Sherlock's knees. John nearly laughed when he realized that the suit had shorts for trousers rather than long pants.

Searching through his bag, John did the same with his outfit Penelope picked out for him. Much like Sherlock, he had a white dress shirt, but it was beginning to wear out and had started to fade. Much to John's pleasure, he had long legged trousers rather than shorts. Also different from Sherlock's, rather than a three piece suit, his came with a brown and red checkered sweater vest.

John placed his suit on his bed so it matched how Sherlock's was set out. After setting the vest on top of his shirt, John stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Jaaaaaawn! Come on! Let see if we can sneak some candy before the party! I think Mrs. Marble left the bowls out in the dining hall!"

* * *

The sun had started to set and Sherlock's party was in full swing. Mrs. Holmes spared no expense and made sure to buy the best of everything. With a group of near 60 kids, they made sure there was some type of entertainment ready went the next one ended. The ballroom had been transformed from its usual graceful self into a child's heaven.

A small stage had been set up with a clown telling jokes and doing tricks while in another corner there was a bounce house in the shape of an elephant. Colored lights were swarming the place and music was blaring. A long buffet table had been set up with every sweet known to man, and on the opposite side of the room a table was set up with meal foods of every kind.

Small caravel games had been set up with prizes of all kind. Small prizes consisted of stuffed animals or bouncy balls. Larger ones were of bicycles or plastic toys. The French doors to the outside gardens were throw open and lead to a small petting zoo and a pony ride.

John stood in the middle of the room with his jaw dropped and eyes widen nearly taking up half of his face. Apparently, Esteban had a rather large family, and these were only the ones that were around Sherlock's age. Most of children that belong to the friend's of Mrs. Holmes said no more than a quick 'Happy birthday Sherlock!' before running off to the entertainment, some of them didn't even say his name.

Next to John, Sherlock stood with a bored expression.

As John stood, trying to take in all that was going on around him, he began to feel dizzy. A hand on his shoulder drew him out of the trance and back to reality.

"Well...At least people showed up this year." Sherlock said a loud. But even though he all but yelled it, John could just barely make out what he had said because of all the noise. Music, laughter, the chatter from child to child, the loud clown trying to keep the children's attention long enough for him to do his whole act.

"What, you mean no one came to your birthday last year?!" John yelled back.

Sherlock shrugged, "The few business partners mummy had last year brought a few of their kids, but they all ran off and left me to clean up the mess they made in my room. No one from the school I was going to come."

"Oh...So, what do you wanna do?"

"I suggest we don't go in the bounce house, the blonde haired girl is feeling sick but doesn't want to leave, and she'll most likely get sick in the bounce house. I also wouldn't go watch the clown, he pick-pockets people. Most of the caravel games are rigged and one of the petting zoo animals has fleas, it's either the goat or the pig, not sure yet."

John gave a defeated sigh, "Okay, well how about the pony rides?" Sherlock shrugged and allowed John to lead him outside by the garden where there was a line for the pony rides. Sherlock stood behind John with a prominent pout gracing his face. As the line kept moving, John's turn finally came. The man who owned the pony helped John get himself settled on the pony and handed him the reigns.

It was at this moment that Sherlock's cousin Ronald came running over.

"Sherlock! Someone started cutting the cake!"

"What? Do you know who it was?"

"No...but I think my mum got a picture of them."

Behind Ronald came Mrs. Holmes.

"Sherlock there you are! Esteban wants you to meet his sister and her son. They're visiting from, oh where was it…...Colombia...Anyways, they can't stay late so-"

Ronald cut her off and began talking again.

"-Whoever it was even blow out the candles!-"

"-They just wanted to say a quick 'hello'-"

"-I think they even started serving the cake to other people!-"

"-Then you can go right back to whatever you were going-"

"-So you must come see them!" Ronald and Mrs. Holmes said in unison.

While Sherlock was distracted, the man who was putting John on the pony bent down to fix his untied shoelaces leaving John unattended for a single moment. In that moment, John's foot accidentally hit the side of the pony giving the pony a single to go speeding off. The scream that came from John drew the back the attention of the others. The man who owned the horse took off running after John and pony yelling "Whoa!" As Mrs. Holmes stood flabbergasted, Ronald and Sherlock took off after John.

A security guard came running over tried jumping in front of the pony to herd it in the other direct. When the pony saw its path was blocked it quickly turned and began running into the gardens, much to Mrs. Holmes horror. As more bushes and plants began showing up in the pony's path, the pony began taking sharper turns and constantly changing directions.

"I'm slipping!" John yelled out to no one particular. He tried hanging onto the pony's neck, but his brace on his leg did nothing to help steady him on the back of the pony.

The yells from Sherlock, Cousin Ronald and the man who owned the pony were heard as they chased the pony throughout the garden. The attention from the other children was soon caught and a small crowd was soon formed. Concerned adults and laughing children were all standing by the doors of the house watching from afar as the pony and John were chased after. A few of the children were held back in their attempts to join in what they thought was fun.

The pony took a turn down a narrow path with bushes on either side. Security guards blocked off the end of the path making the pony stop in its tracks. The man who owned the pony quickly snaked his arm around the side of the pony and grabbed its reigns. Ronald, being both older and taller than Sherlock or John, went and helped John off the pony, careful of the brace on his leg.

"John! John, are you alright?"

John, who was greatly shaken, was wobbly when his feet touched the ground. It took him a second or two to regain some balance. Sherlock put his arm around John's waist and helped him to stay on his feet. John leaned on Sherlock, as his leg with the brace felt even weaker and made it hard for him to walk.

"Yeah...Yeah 'm fine. I just need to sit down."

* * *

Once they were all at the party Mrs. Holmes reassured all the parents that everything was fine and informed them that the pony rides were over and that cake would be served. Sherlock and John were excused from the party and went into Mrs. Holmes room where they watched Willy Wonka and Chocolate Factory.

Elisabeth, who had been overseeing the petting zoo, was sent to watch over the boys and make sure they weren't disturbed and would be taken care of for the rest of the evening.

Elisabeth brought some food from the party upstairs and served the boys as they lay on Mrs. Holmes bed. They were about halfway through the movie when they fell asleep, exhausted from the excitement of the day.

With all the guestrooms being used, Elisabeth brought Sherlock, and then John, to Sherlock's room to sleep. With arms full of the boys plats with food scraps still on them, she left Sherlock's room with the boys sprawled across the bed.


	47. Sticking to a New Skin

February 5th, 1974

* * *

_Dear Mother,_

_Back when you and father first moved to America you asked that I would one day visit you. I want to now fulfill that request. Life and work here in England has been fine, I just got a promotion, I'm being promoted to Head Nurse. Although it will mean more hours and more time away from home, it will also mean more money. Client has been 'working like a dog', as you would say, trying to support us. He works so much that he sometimes doesn't come home for days at a time! Yes mum, I know what you must be thinking, and I can tell you for sure he isn't cheating on me._

_John and Harriet seem to be growing everyday! While Harriet, or Harry as she likes to be called, is always on the phone with Clara, John can't stop talking about his friend Sherlock! I'm so happy for John, I was worried once he started school with a brace it might be hard for him make friends, but Sherlock makes sure to look out for John. This week John is finally getting his brace off! After having to cancel John's lat appointment, he was very upset that he couldn't get on with his doctor for a whole month! The poor thing keeps playing with it, trying to convince me to let him take it off early!_

_I wondering if I and kids could come down to visit for a week or two? Clint has working and can't take anytime off it seem and I don't start my new position for a couple of weeks until the new trainees finish their courses._

_Can't wait to hear from and hope to see you soon!_

_~ Penelope Watson_

* * *

John was practically bouncing in his seat as he waited with Sherlock and Penelope in the waiting room at the doctor's office. It was a Saturday afternoon and he and Sherlock had a sleepover the previous night; discussing everything they'd be able to do once John got his brace taken off.

"John, stay still or you'll end up hurting your leg even more and have to keep it on longer!" Penelope warned.

John tried stilling himself, but he couldn't help it! Although he could still do many of the same things the other children could do, there were still many other things he wasn't allowed to take part in. And even though the other children treated him as if he were just like another kid, he could feel something like a wall between them. Well that wall was about to be broken down, John felt like he was about to be freed. _'Like a bird flying free from its cage'_. Sherlock would have called it cliché, but that's exactly how John felt.

Sherlock on the other hand, was having a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He and John had already planned on going to the roller skating rink that night and he knew John would be suggesting things they could do the rest of the day as well. But there was a hint of fear mixed into all this as well. Before, at school when they would play certain games, Sherlock would sit out with John and they got to play whatever they wanted. But now John could play all the games with the other children, surely he wouldn't want to sit out with Sherlock anymore. Why sit around when he could be playing with all the other boring children?

"John Watson." A nurse called out.

John all but darted out of his seat and towards the nurse standing by the door to a hallway. Mrs. Watson smiled to herself and shook her head fondly. Sherlock walked at a slower pace next to Penelope. He hated the doctor's office, they always asked stupid questions and then gave you shots for illnesses you might not ever even get!

They were led down the hall and into the doctor's office. The room had wallpaper with clowns going around the room with informative posters. Above what looked like a kitchen sink was a poster going from one 10 ten with different faces, each representing different integrity of pain.

"Hello everyone, my name is Vicky, now I'm just going to ask you a few questions before your doctor comes in, alright? Now, which one of you is John?"

"This is John and this is his friend Sherlock."

"Alright, now John, once your doctor comes in he's going to give you a quick check-up and then we can see about getting that brace off. Now John, how have you been feel? Does your leg hurt at all?"

"Umm...It doesn't hurt, but it does get really weak sometimes and feels like it starts to go limp."

"That's perfectly normal! Your leg isn't use to doing active stuff yet because with your brace has been helping it. When you do more active stuff like running or playing sports, you depend more on your leg than your brace. When you do normal stuff like just simply walking around, the brace assist your leg. Once your brace is off you'll want work your way up, like first only walking, then maybe move onto speed walking, than jogging and than running. If you do too much at once your leg won't be ready for it and it'll hurt. So don't try and do too much stuff that put strain on it, okay?"

"Mmhm." John hummed in agreement. He wondered if roller skating would be considered 'too much'. He really wanted to go with Sherlock; they had been planning to go for awhile now.

"Alright, now I just need mum to fill out this sheet and your doctor will be in with you in a moment!"

* * *

As John was seated up upon examination table, Penelope sat in a plastic chair on the other side of the room. Sherlock, who didn't like stand for so long, climbed up and began spinning in the doctor's chair.

"Sheeeelock, you can't sit there! The doctor will be here any minute!"

"And you're supposed to change into one of those ugly gowns."

John purposefully avoided the white gown that had been placed next to him. Although most gowns were plain white, the kid's gowns had different designs on them. The one given to John was covered in tiny red airplanes. He considered himself lucky; the last time he had a checkup he got stuck with one that had a bunch of light pink roses.

John opened his mouth to respond to Sherlock, but when he looked up and saw his mother glaring at him. _Time to put the gown on._ John groaned as he began to strip down, he jumped down from the table and stood in front of his mother so she could tie the strings in the back.

Just as John was climbing back onto the examination table the doctor walked in.

"Hello Mrs. Watson, John, Oh! Who's this?" Dr. Pits said as he looked towards Sherlock.

"This is my friend Sherlock; mum said I could bring someone with me."

"Nice to meet you Sherlock; say do you want to help?"

Sherlock's eyes went wide. "Really? I can help?!"

"Yup, but first I need to give John a checkup. Now you can sit right here and I'll tell you when you help, alright?"

Sherlock nodded quickly and settled himself in the doctor's chair.

* * *

"Alright John, everything seems to be fine. Are you ready to get this brace off?"

"Yup!"

"Okay Sherlock, you ready to help?"

Sherlock got up and excitedly ran to stand by the doctor, ready to help.

"Okay Sherlock," The doctor said as he turned and looked down to Sherlock. "I need you to undo this part here and hold this so I can get the rest off."

Sherlock did his part the best he could. He kept focus and made sure he was ready whenever the doctor told him to do something. He peered over the doctor's arm to look at John's leg with the doctor. All the bruises and cuts and any other damage done to it was no longer there. Fresh pale skin, like that of a new born, was hidden underneath the brace. Now stripped of its cover, the skin showed it a bright, light pink.

"Good as new!" The doctor exclaimed. "Now, your mum should still have those painkillers I gave you last time. Your leg will be a little weak at first, but after a few days of walking it should be just fine! If you run out of medicine and you're still feeling pain then just give me a call and I can get you some more."

"Thank you Dr. Pits, will that be all?" Penelope said as she stood up and walked over towards the examination table.

"Yes, just make sure to make an appointment for next month for one last check-up. Nothing big or anything, just to make sure John's leg is perfectly fine."

"Thank you doctor, have a nice day."

"You too, bye boys! Oh wait; I forgot one more thing..."

* * *

Mrs. Watson opened the minivan door and gave an exasperated sigh. She rolled her eyes as John and Sherlock came giggling over and hopped into the car.

"If Mrs. Holmes gets upset I'm putting all the blame on you two!"

Penelope's lips spread into an amused smile as she looked into the rear-view mirror and saw Sherlock and John laughing and taking off and putting back on the stickers that Dr. Pits gave them. The jealous look the other children with only one stick gave them did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Watson. She simply shook her head and herded the boys out the door.

Dr. Pits had a small basket of stickers which he placed in front of the boys and went to go talk with Penelope. When he came back he saw that John had chosen a red sticker with the words **_I am One Super Kid!_** written in yellow bold letter on it, while Sherlock chose a blue sticker with a skeleton onto it saying **_I Have Awesome Bones!_** written in white letters. "Nice choice!" Dr. Pits told the boys as they smiled innocently at him.

Penelope, John and Sherlock all stood in the waiting room while Penelope made an appointment for John. Mrs. Watson looked over towards the boys to make sure they weren't getting into trouble. She smiled as she saw them place their stickers on their arms, John's on his left arm and Sherlock on his right arm.

Mrs. Watson turned to dig out her mini calendar to scribble down the date of the appointment. She smiled and nodded a good-bye to the receptionist. She placed her calendar back into her purse and went to gather the boys. When she looked up she saw that John and Sherlock's arms were now covered in stickers of different sizes and colors.

"Mum, can you hold these." John handed her the papers for the backs of the stickers and turned back to Sherlock.

This was going to be a long day.

 


	48. To Grandma's House We Go!

* * *

"John Hamish Watson and Harriet Silva Watson, so help me if fight about _anything_ one more time I'll get the pilot to turn this plane around and have you both sent home!"

It was the beginning of March when plans for visiting Penelope's parents finally were arranged. John's leg was getting along nicely and they had only three incidents so far where John had to stop and take a rest because his leg was hurting him. Although John's appointment wasn't for another few weeks, Penelope deemed it good enough for the trip. When everything was settled and the dates set aside, Harry all but jumped for joy when she realized she would be missing a full week of school. John, on the other hand, groaned, because he and Sherlock were making plans and

_it wasn't fair because Mycroft had come home and Sherlock's mum is making them spend time together. So me and Sherlock haven't had much time together, please, please can the trip wait just for one more week?!_

But that's when Penelope Watson would get her new position. This job offer could easily be given to someone, like Beatrice, who had been working there for over five years, but for some reason they didn't choose Beatrice, they choose her. It was no mystery why they had chosen her over Beatrice.

The hospital got it's power from the company Clint worked at.

About a week ago, one of the generators broke down. Although they weren't using the generator at the moment, should the power go out they would use the generator as a back up. Without it they would lose their power and that would be chaos.

The power company had sent out a man to take a look at the generator, which just happened to be Clint. So for Clint to put in a good word for her while he was there didn't surprise her. To not only the employee devote time to the hospital but other family members as well? Surely they would use this to their advantage. Why wait on hold on a telephone when you can simply ask the person wife to give them a message? Why pay overpricing bills when you can ask your employee's husband to do them a favor? Beatrice's husband worked for a pool cleaning company, they would never need him for any favors.

But when Penelope had spoken with her boss her boss reassured her that she had worked for it. That she deserved this promotion. _Because really Mrs. Watson, we all know how hard you work. You should have been promoted months ago! Besides, it's no secret that Beatrice has been leaving early and coming in late._

Penelope could see the hated looks in her co-worker's eyes. They all knew why she had promoted, the real reason. Everyone knew, so why bother covering it up? Because, who in their rights minds who come out and say 'We just hiring you so we get rid of some of these bills, you get bills Penelope, you know what it's like. By the way, do you think you can get your husband to come out next week? The lights in the bathroom are flickering again'.

But she would take the job either way. Because yes, she did get bills. Because yes, she could get her husband to come out next week. And if she could get her husband out than there's no way they'd think to fire her next time they start laying people off.

With the new position meant more working hours, more working hours meant less time a home, less time at home meant anything could happen to the kids. Anything, and she wouldn't be there to witness anything. But Harry could look after herself, and John would probably want to spend more time at Sherlock's house. Yes, they would both be fine, Clint was only returning a few nights out of the week, and if she could keep the kids out those nights everything found be fine. She could get Harry to stay at Clara's and John at Sherlock's.

Everything would be fine.

* * *

"Mum, this John and Harry. John, Harry this is my mum."

Grandma Mills, John imagined, would have been quite tall had it not been for the fact that she seem to be hunched over most of the time. She looked like your average little old lady, short white hair that was puffed into curls. She wore large framed glasses that covered both of her eyes and made them look like those of a bug. She was dressed in a creamy gown that went all the way down to her ankles. Her skin was soft, but wrinkled rather than smooth. Over her gown her wore a light purple house coat that seemed to swallow her tiny figure.

"Oh dear, and here I was hoping for two little children that I could spoil rotten with cookies and other candies. But instead I get this fine young handsome man, and a beautiful young lady. Whatever shall I do with all those chocolate cookies I baked?!" The elderly woman said with a warm smile as she looked them over.

Right there and then John decided that he liked Grandma Mills and was his new favorite person.

"Mum, I thought I said no junk food until after dinner?" Penelope said as she rolled in their luggage.

"Oh Nel, you can be such a stick in the mud! One cookie won't hurt anyone! Now bring those suitcases right on in. Penelope you can take your old room and John and Harry can share George's room, I had your father convert it into a guest room. Unless one of you rather take the couch, not as comfortable, but long enough."

"No, no mum. The rooming arrangements will be fine! Right, John, Harry?"

"Yes, mum." The two said in unison.

* * *

Harry and John were led by grandmother to a spare room on the other side of the house. The room was nice enough, there was a small bookcase full with old books of all kind, a 50's lamp next to the bed and a wooden desk with a phone. But the one thing that captured Harry's and John's attention was the large and single bed. the bed was covered with white and light pink matching blankets and pillows. Much to John's dismay, the blankets and pillows ha a flowery design and was edged with frills.

"Okay squirt," Harry began pacing as she looked around the room. John stood next to the end of the bed with his bag slug over his shoulder. "I have a few rooms, 1. I get the left side of the bed, 2. No waking up before 7 am. If you do go to the living room and stay quiet, 3. If you touch _anything_ of mine I will break your arm, and lastly, 4. No snoring, rolling, talking, waking, or squirming around in the bed. Am I clear?!"

"Fine, but that means you can't snore either!" John said defensively.

"I do not snore! That was one time and I had a cold, I can't help that I couldn't breath!"

"What 'bout all the other times!"

"What other times!"

"Every time you sleep!"

"Shut up you little brat!"

"Harriet and John Watson!" The two children jumped as Mrs. Watson's voice boomed from behind them. Harry and John turned on spot, they whirled around and saw Mrs. Watson standing in the door frame with her hands folded across her chest.

"We're only going to be here a week at most. Could you two please behave for that long? I think I speak for all of us when I say that we don't want for me to have to punish you both during our vacation, or in front of Grandma. Now, unpack and get ready, Grandma's being nice enough to take us out to a restaurant in China Town."

Harry was the first to move from her spot, she quickly turned and rushed to kneel next to her suitcase. Harry began taking her clothes out of her case and hanging them up on the left side of the closest. In total. she made tree trips from her suitcase to the closest. Harry changed out of the clothes she wore on the plane and into a white tank top with a checkered brown and pink skirt and a light pink cardigan.

Satisfied with how she looked, Harry left the room.

John, with his clothes spilling out of his arms, stared at the closest in wonder. Harry was twice the size of John and could easily hang up her own clothes. John, on the other hand, was too short to even touch the hangers danging off the pole going across the length of the closest.

Looking around the room John began searching for something he could use to reach the hangers. His eyes stopped on a wooden chair next to the desk. An idea sparked in John's mind, the boy put his clothes down on the floor and walked over and grabbed the chair by the back. He pulled the chair over towards the closest and set it directly below the pole.

With the help of the chair, John was able to reach the hangers. He got himself in the routine of grabbing an article of clothing, getting on top of the chair, grab a hanger, hang up the clothes, hop down and do it again. It took him twice as long as Harry, but relief filled him as he looked down from the chair and noticed there were only three articles of clothing left.

As John was hanging up his last shirt he realized that now that his clothes were hung up, they would eventually have to come down when he wanted to where. So with his clothes hung up, he got down and left the room.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you may have noticed that I went from January to February really quickly. This is because I'm trying to speed up time a little bit. As you may have noticed from the title this is only the first part of a series. I'm planning on writing the first two parts of the series as a three-year period.
> 
> Meaning this story will have Sherlock and John through through ages 7-9
> 
> And part 2 of the series will have them 10-13.
> 
> After that I'm going to change things up a bit and have them in their years in one story (Cause in America {which is where I live} there are only 4 years of high school, 9th-12th). After that I'm planning on doing University/training for Afghanistan/leaving for Afghanistan/Becoming the Consulting Detective all in one story.
> 
> I'm thinking about stopping this series once John meets Sherlock at St. Barts (unless of course you guys start an uproar and beg, cry and scream for me to continue).
> 
> Nothing is definite yet! If anyone has any suggestions (or requests) please don't be afraid to say something!
> 
> I wanna get start posting at least one chapter per a week, but with school, tests, and maybe getting a job this summer (I'm not to keen on working but my mom is dropping hints) that might not be possible. But I will post as much as I can!


	49. Hello New House, Good-Bye Old Home

Mr. Douglas sat in the seat next to Sherlock as he flipped through a magazine. He gave an annoyed sigh as a child two seats behind them started two cry. His employer's youngest son, Sherlock, sat looking out his window at the world under them. Mr. Douglas was grateful for the boys silences, he didn't know if he could handle one more of the kid's 'deductions'. Throughout the entire airport Sherlock had tried to deduce anyone he could set eye on. So far he has informed two wives that their husbands were cheating on them, three father's that their children were either smoking, doing drugs, or sleeping around, and one staff worker that their boss was planning on firing them soon. Mr. Douglas had to stop Sherlock before he could tell the security guard that he could probably lose more weight if he quit sneaking doughnuts between breaks.

"Can I get you boys anything?"

Frank Douglas looked up and saw that the Stewardess standing next to them with her cart. Frank gave the cart a quick glance over and decided that there was nothing he wanted. He was rather hunger, but the idea of eating on a plane made him sick to his stomach. Changing his gaze from cart to the Stewardess, he gave her a quick glance over and decided that yes, he did want something.

"Nothing for me, What about you Sherlock? You want anything?"

Sherlock, who had been trying to ignore anything that wasn't almost invisible ground below them, sighed annoyingly. He turned around and looked over the cart. "Some peanuts, please."

Sherlock watched in disgust as the Stewardess bent down to retrieve a small bag of peanuts from a compartment in the cart and Mr. Douglas shift in his seat as stare at the woman's legs that slowly showed a bit more as her skirt began to raise. Unfortunately for Mr. Douglas (and very fortunate for Sherlock) nothing inappropriate showed.

As the Stewardess turned back around, Mr. Douglas quickly shifted his gaze so she won't suspect a thing. "Here you go young man, unfortunately we only have roasted peanuts, I hope that's alright?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Will that be all?"

Before Douglas could get out a cheesy pit-up line, Sherlock quickly dismissed the Stewardess. "Yes, thank you, good-bye." The Stewardess gave a bright smile and a nod as she walked away.

"What was that for?" Douglas accused as he gave Sherlock slit-eyed glare.

"She's married idiot, and is pregnant by the way. I highly doubt she'd have a quick affair when she's happily married and with a child on the way."

Douglas, who was trying hard to fight the blush that was creeping onto his cheeks, scowled and quickly turned away from the boy. Honestly, the kid didn't know how to shut his mouth. Thank god Mr. Holmes wasn't like that; he could only imagine his job then. Sure he'd be able to put up with him for the first month. But Mr. Douglas had no doubt in his mind that he would be looking for another job by the end of the month. Thank goodness the kid only came once a month.

* * *

When they had finally landed it was getting late and Sherlock was getting hungry. Mr. Douglas thanked god he had gone to the store a few days ago and stocked the house. There would be plenty of foods to choose from and Mr. Douglas would only be too happy to make anything for Sherlock as soon as they got to the house. All the drive there he kept reminding himself that Mr. Holmes had told him after he took care of Sherlock he could have the rest of the night off. Unless an emergencies should happen, of course.

The new house Mr. Holmes had purchased was much cozier than the small flat on Baker Street. It was a three story 'townhouse' in South Florida. The townhouse was located in a small community called _Orchid Grove._ It was a nice community if Mr. Douglas were honest. There was large community pool, a club house for different actives and even a small gym. The best part, they were five minutes away from the beach! Not just a beach, but a small part of a beach that only the locals knew about.

As they drove over a railroad track, tall orange, tan houses came into few. Mr. Douglas supposed it was some form of sentiment; the townhouse was much like the flat in the London, but more intimate. Orchid Grove was a private little community; it had its only landscaping crew that came out once a month to cut the grass and such. All the mail boxes were in one area, and they even had a duck pond (more like lake) with a sidewalk going around it and a bride some of the neighbors would feed the ducks from.

The only flaw Douglas could find was that the walls were a bit too thin for his liking. You could press your ear to the wall and hear every word the neighbors were saying. Hell, he was even taking a walk once and as he passed by a house he could hear a baby crying from inside.

But he never complained, after all, he was getting free food, a free room, paid more than he should probably get, and not to mention all the places he got to see. If thin walls were the worst he would have to deal with, then would gladly work for Mr. Holmes until retirement (His or Mr. Holmes, whichever came first).

* * *

As they pulled into the grudge, Sherlock looked up onto the house in which he would be staying in. "Which room will I be put in?" Sherlock ask as he hopped out of the car. "You'll get the guest room, which is unfortunately right next to my room. The first floor has only a half bathroom and walk-in. The second floor has the living room, kitchen, dining room and another half bathroom. The third floor has the Master bedroom and bathroom, a laundry area, two other bedrooms and a full bathroom. You and I will be staying in the two bedrooms at the end of the hall on the third floor." Mr. Douglas explained as he took out Sherlock's suitcase.

When Sherlock entered the house, the first room they stepped in was a large opened area. There was a couch, two armchairs, a coffee table and a few other ideas to decorate the room. It was like Baker Street, but different in so many ways. It was then that Sherlock knew he would either grow to love the house dearly, or hate it all together.

He hoped it was the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The Orchid Grove is a real Place. I used to live in one of their Townhouses and yes, the whole "heard a baby crying from the inside" actually happened. The only real upside was that the neighbors would leave buckets of candy out during Halloween and me and little sister would sneak out the next morning and take all the leftovers.
> 
> I don't live there anymore so any of you creepier out their trying to find won't be able to by looking it up.


	50. The Problem With the House

 

 

 

Sherlock hated the new house, the entire first and second floors had huge spacious rooms, while the bedrooms on the third floor were tiny and cramped. Only a thin white wall separated the guest room from Douglas' room, and to Sherlock's horror, besides the master bath, there was only one full bathroom, meaning that Sherlock and Douglas would be forced to share the upstairs bathroom.

The one thing that fascinated Sherlock was the ceiling fans on the second floor. Their blades were oddly shaped and the two blades spun in different directions.

As Sherlock sat on the guest room bed he looked around his room taking in his new surroundings. The room reminded him much of a prisoners' cell in a asylum. The white walls had no trimmings and mocked the tiny space as they stretched up high. If it were not for the closet and the single set of windows, the room could easily be transformed into a holding room. All that was missing were the padded walls.

The furniture in the room consisted of the bed Sherlock sat on, a small desk with a chair and a nightstand with a small drawer. Any cloths he brought would have to be stored in the closet. Which, in contrast to the rest of the room, were wide and had plenty of room in them; an easy hiding spot, Sherlock noted for later.

Sherlock looked out his window and out towards the other houses. Every house looked almost exactly the same; all a sandy, clay color. Balconies were built in perfect straight lines and the roads and sidewalks were all equal in length and size. The grass was perfectly level and the hedges neatly cut. Sherlock watched as he saw a woman walking her dog. Once the dog was done the woman went and cleaned the mess up with a green plastic bag. It was then that Sherlock noticed a pole with a trashcan and a small box with green bags sticking out of it attached to it.

A completely normal town with perfectly normal people in a completely safe part of town.

This was going to be the most boring weekend of Sherlock's life.

* * *

_Mr. Ricardo,_

_We would like to inform you that your service from the Hensworth Electric Co. is being terminated. This does not have any relation to any late or missed bills. We regret to announce that the Hensworth Electric Co. will be shutting down permanently on June 31. We would like to give you a warning and also to give you time to make a switch over to other reliable Electric companies that will be listed below. We thank you for allowing us to serve you and for being a loyal costume._

_This letter is a requirement in following our Members Service Policy that is part of the contract in which you sighed. It states that all customers be given a 5-6 month notice before **any** and **all** major events that will affect our customers or service for our customers in **anyway**. _

_The following Electric Companies have been reviewed by The Electric Services Society and have been highly rated. It is not required nor will you be automatically switched over to any of these companies. These are only suggestions that are made by the opinions from the Electric Services Society. If you are switched over to any of these companies and have not made any contact or indications that you wish to be please contact the Electric Services Society at the number listed below._

_Here is a list of the top five most highly rated electrical companies near you!_

**_Electric London_ **

**_Lighting Powered_ **

**_EGT & Co. _ **

**_Dean &Dean_ **

**_Eelectric_ **

_Sincerely_

_Hensworths Electric Co. CEO J.K. Okes_

* * *

Esteban Ricardo stared at the letter in his hands. According to Aithley, the Holmes Manor had gotten its electricity from Hensworth Electric Co. since Aithley was a child. Esteban's promise to his wife that he won't try and change anything floated through his head. Although where they got their electricity from didn't really affect them that much, it could cause conflict in the future. Likes for example, if he choose somewhere that over prices them or was consistently failing on them, Aithley might begin to question his sense of judgment.

Esteban didn't want to something so small and insignificant to be what caused a fight. He was already questioning every decision he made and feared that next might be the one where he trips up. With Mycroft going into the business world, they could expect him to take over the family house and handle all these affairs. But until then they were Esteban's problems, and he felt inadequate to solve them.

The Electric Services Society, they could just be a bunch of crack heads that happen to get themselves a room with a computer and a phone. Anything could pass for a business these days. He would need to do his own reviewing. Perhaps he could get some advice from people they knew. That's what normal people do, didn't they? They ask their family, friends, neighbors what they use and how well they work.

It occurred to Esteban that they weren't exactly close with anyone. The closest neighbor they had was a elderly man who lived a few good miles away. And both his and Aithley's families lived in varies areas. Most of their friends were social 'friends', people they gossiped with at parties, no one they could actually go to for advice.

Esteban Looked over towards the clock on the wall, dinner would be served in a half an hour. His calendar was filled with meetings and dates circled for when letters had to be sent and people called by. How did other people do it? How were other business men able to get all their work done and in time for dinner? How were they able to have free time to spend dipping in their pools or playing golf?

That's when an idea planted itself in his mind.

 


	51. Revelation

A personal assistant, a secretary or administrative assistant working exclusively for one particular person.

Aithley could still hear her husband's words echoing inside of her head. With the changes of the electric serves, Esteban had suggested adding on more staff. They currently one had employed a driver, a cook, a gardener, a maid and a nanny. How many people did it take to care for a family of four?

Ah, but with Esteban's connects in the Middle East, it would be expected of them to host more parties to get to know everyone. In addition, Mycroft would have his own connects too; they would need to arrange a get-together with them all as well. Sherlock was now old enough to start learning how to behave like a gentleman; he too would have to start participating at parties. Besides, Aithley fashion business was beginning to bloom in other countries, she would have to start making more trips out of countries for showings. And with plans of her own to open a few new stores on the way...

Perhaps some new staff won't be such a bad idea.

Ads would need to be written up, new equipments, uniforms, rooms for housing... They had more than enough money to pay for a new staff. But the idea seemed like such a hassle. They would need to hire on another cook to work alongside Mr. Marbles to help feed everyone. They would also need caretaker, some to see over all house and employees.

The first thing Mrs. Holmes did was write a list of the different positions that would need to be filled.

-Cleaning Staff

-Kitchen Staff

-Landscaping Staff

-Housekeeper

-Butler

-Other

For each position they would probably have three to five people working in the department. Even with the new employees, they would still need to hire on volunteers for parties. Not to mention Personal maids when they had guests. They would need to create a whole new system for how the house would be run. Of course they would leave Mrs. Marble, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Anderson in charge for the first few months until everything came together. Mrs. Holmes knew she wasn't a genius like her sons, but she wasn't dumb either; she wasn't going to leave some stranger in charge of her house.

* * *

Elisabeth sat on the settee in the drawing room reading a book she had borrowed from the Holmes Library. She shifted on the settee; bring the soft brown blanket up to cover over the side of one her shoulders. The fire caused a low lighting in the room as the sun had begun to set. She wore her hair long and down; flowing down over her shoulders like a veil.

With Sherlock off visiting his father she had the weekend off. With no errands to run she asked Mrs. Marble to warm a glass of milk in which she made herself a glass of hot chocolate. A small plate with a piece of unfinished cake lay next to her; abandoned for the excitement of the book she read.

Her eyes roamed over the pages hungrily, eager to see what would happen next.

_"But their effects were futile. They were shoved towards the room with the boiling pool and put inside.-"_

Elisabeth's attention was drawn from the book as she heard the oak wood doors open and someone step inside the room. The figure's identity was soon found out as Mycroft Holmes looked up with a surprised expression gracing his face.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were-"

"No, no it's fine. It's getting late and should go wash up. Good evening Mr. Holmes."

Elisabeth quickly yet gracefully slipped out of the blanket and slipped back into her wool slippers that had been lying on the floor. With a solemn nod towards Mycroft as she passed by him, she made her out of the room.

* * *

Once he was alone, Mycroft felt every beginning to quiver. It had all been too much, a sudden want- no _need_ ran through his body when he first laid eye on Elisabeth. He had come into the drawing room to look over the papers for one of the courses he would be taking at Oxford. All he had wanted was a quiet evening alone with his work.

But the moment he saw Elisabeth; reclined on the settee with the gentle light from the fire painted against her face, he felt a small spark ignite inside of him. He could feel his breath escape him as the young woman looked up towards him with a slight gasp. Thoughts of natures he would never dare utter flooded his mind.

Mycroft was a man of control, he knew what he wanted and never settled for less. He had control over his future, soon his finance, and most importantly, his body. He had never allowed himself to give into the pleasures of self relief. Nor had he ever let himself look twice upon any young woman, no matter how much he could gain from doing so. He was gentleman; he would never push himself onto anyone, nor would he take advantage of someone who wasn't in the right mind (although he count how many times someone had offered them up to himself).

But in that single moment, all he wanted to do was walk over to Elisabeth, join her under her blanket and wrap himself around her and hold her as they warmed by the fire.

He could almost see her feeding him a piece of the cake as she rested her head against his chest. He could almost feel the heat from their bodies pressed together under the warmth of the cotton blanket. He could hear the fire crackle as they would both begin to draft off into a half conscious state.

Almost.

He quickly shook his head and drew his mind from the ever temping fantasies. Because in the end, that's all they were, fantasies. Nothing more than a dream; a life time that would exist. One that both frightened and intrigued him.

He took a few deep breaths to try and calm his heart, for he could feel his heart rate had picked up a few paces. He blinked a couple of times, to ensure they weren't dilated. To anyone looking on, it would have looked like Mycroft was shaking a disturbing thought from his mind or perhaps shaking himself from a daydream. But what no one could see was that he was fighting an internal battle with himself, and he was losing.

* * *

"MEAT POP SICKLE STICKS!"

Harry Watson groaned as her younger brother shouted with glee as the waiter brought them their food. She resisted the urge to correct her younger brother that No, they were not called Meat Pop Sickle Sticks, they were called Chicken Teriyaki. And yes, if he called them that one more time she would make good on her promise to pour his chocolate milk on his head. And what Chinese restaurant serves chocolate milk?

"Calm down Johnny, make sure you save some for your mum and sister."

"Yes, Grandma."

John was so excited! His first grandma was living in some old people home and they couldn't see her that much. It made him really sad, he missed her tons! But he was really glad to meet his new grandma, she let him order anything he wanted off the adult menu and even let him open his fortune cookie _before_ dinner. Then she said they were going to go see a movie at the cinema and was even going to buy them popcorn! He couldn't wait!

At first Penelope had seen to want to argue about going to the cinema, but after grandma insisted she couldn't say no. How could see? Grandma had big blue eyes that looked even bigger under she glasses. Plus her kitty-cat covered handbag made her seem so sweet and kind. But John knew better, after his mum had accidentally shut the front door on Grandma cat's tail, Grandma hit her over the head with her handbag and made her drive _and_ pay for the meal! (But she promised to pay her back later so it was okay).

John had been worried that he would be bored the whole time, but boy was he wrong! It seemed his grandma had planned out activities for them for their entire trip! Tomorrow they were going to go roller-skating, then the next days go to the zoo, Grandma said that they could even have a picnic in Central Park! It was then that Penelope had to remind Grandma that it was only February and, although it hadn't snowed, it was still freezing outside.

So Harry suggested they go to the mall, to which both Grandma and Penelope agreed was a good idea. Three women in a place filled with clothes, John could see his doom like the sun coming up on the horizon.


	52. When I'm Alone

"C'mon Sherlock! It's like one big giant bath!"

Elliot Holmes stood in the shallow end of the pool waiting for Sherlock to join him. The boy himself was standing by the stairs into the pool wearing wearing water wings and a matching yellow floating around his waist. He waddled over towards the edge of the stairs and stopped short to hitch up his swimming trunks. Unfortunately, his swimming trunks were a size to large and just barely hung off his skinny waist.

"Father, I think these trunks will come right all once they get too wet. I need smaller ones!"

Elliot sighed, "Yes Sherlock, I've already informed Mr. Douglas, he's to buy you a new pair once he's done with his errands. So for now you'll have to make do with the pair you brought with you."

Sherlock tested the water by putting the toes on his right foot in. His father was right, the water was like a bath. It was the perfect time for swimming in Sherlock's mind. It was mid February, which meant that the locals won't be swimming because for them the water would seem too cold. But for someone like Sherlock who was use to the cold, the water was the perfect temperature. Deciding the water was warm enough, Sherlock slowly walked down the stairs and into the pool.

As he left the stairs, he felt the water push up against his water wings and floaty, keeping him from going under. Once he got far out enough that his feet no longer touched the bottom, he began kicking his feet and pushing the water around him.

Sherlock met his father in the middle of the pool. "So, what do you think? Do you like it here?" Sherlock nodded esthetically, "It's nice here, there's all sorts of plants here that I can experiment on that I couldn't at home!"

"That's wonderful Sherlock, I'm glad you like it here. I'm very glad..."

* * *

*Bang**Bang**Bang*

"Harry! You've been in there for over an hour! It's my turn!" John yelled through the bathroom door. His older sister had been in bathroom all night and John really had to go. It was already half an hour past his bedtime and his mum had already yelled at him once, he wasn't going to risk it a second time. He didn't mind missing brushing his teeth one night, and he could get changed in the bedroom while his sister was in there. But what he couldn't do was control his bladder for much longer.

"Just a minute!" was Harry's only reply.

"You said that twenty minutes ago! Now open up or I'm getting mum!"

John sighed internally as he watched the bathroom door's knob turn as the door began to open. Without giving any attention to the roll of his sister's eyes, he all but ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. His relief was short lived as he soon heard his sister now banging on the door as he sat on the toilet. "You have five minutes, either you're out or I'm picking my in!"

"You will not! If you do I'll tell mum that you've been using her bus money to call Clara!"

"You do that you little snitch and you'll find yourself locked out for the night!"

"Then I'll yell till mum hears and then she'll punish you!"

John felt a creeping sense of fear come upon him as he waited for his sisters responds. At the first minute of silence he thought his sister might have given up and left him alone. But as he flushed the toilet he realized that her shadow was still casting upon the door; she was waiting for him. He greatly exaggerated his movements and took as long as humanly possible in washing up and brushing his teeth. When he was finally done he slowly made his way towards the door and gentle turned the doorknob as he peered out the crack.

Harry was gone.

the relief that filled his was soon gone as he took his first steps out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Suddenly it was dark, pitch-black dark. He could feel and heard movement around him, but couldn't tell who it was or what they were doing. He heard a door being opened and objects being moved about. Whoever head him (he bet his weekly allowance it was Harry) was pushing him forwards and into the room behind the door. The covering over his head was gone as he was given an almighty shove. Startled by the shove, John tripped over something and fell forwards. As he looked up the last thing he saw was Harry's smirk as he shut the door.

"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! HARRY, OPEN THE DOOR!"

John felt around him; there was mop, a bucket, something soft was squishy, and something hanging above him just barely touching his head. The closet by the front door, far enough that mum would never began to hear him, but just far enough that Grandma, with her hearing just starting to fail her, also won't be able to hear him. It was the perfect hiding spot; with a vent up above and door just enough off the floor for some air to get in and deep enough so that the darkness would cover him. Either Harry would eventually let him out or he would be stuck in there till the morning.

Unfortunately, it was the latter.

* * *

Mrs. Sanders was a older woman in her early fifties, her last employers wrote her as a loyal and trust-worthy, and gave selling their estate to build a new one on their island as their reason for firing her. She was lengthy woman, lean and hulking with gray straight hair that was pulled back into a tight bun on the top of her head. She wore a dark purple blouse with long sleeves that was neatly tucked into a knee-length black skirt. she wore pantyhose with black-buckle shoes that _clanked_ against the floor with ever step she took. Her features were either pointed or smooth, giving her a contrasting yet intimidating look. Her pointed nose held in place her glass-rimmed glasses.

"Thank you Mrs. Sanders for coming in, as you may know we're experiences some changes and need someone to look over out house while me and my wife are away. Normally we would leave that in the hands of our capable staff we already have employed, but with the expanding we're doing, we our planning to hire on more hands."

Mr. Ricardo sat behind his oak desk as he spoke with Mrs. Sanders who was sitting perfectly straight in the sat across from him. She wore a board expression on her face with her hands folded together on her lap.

"The pleasure is mine Mr. Ricardo, I have helped employ many servants before and like to think myself skilled at knowing others talents and putting them proper use. Take my last employer for example, he had a butler who was better suited as a gardener and a cook who took more pride in his clean kitchen than the food that came out of it. I quickly took charge of the situation, within the next week even the guest began to notice how more efficiently the house was run."

"That wonderful Mrs. Sanders, but we need someone who can do more than manage the staff. You see, my wife has two children from a previous married. Her eldest son is going away to University in a few months, but her younger son is only eight years old. Now he has a nanny, but she's a young girl herself. Now my wife has faith in her that she can handle Sherlock by herself, but-"

"But you're not convinced." Mrs. Sander finished for him. "Understandable, sir. I can assure that, if you were to hire me on, I can promise you that the girl will continue her services here. I will assist in anyway I can without causing any disturbances."

Mr. Ricardo smiles pleasantly, "Thank you Mrs. Sanders, I believe you're exactly what we're looking for. I'll have a room made ready for you. You should be able to move in on Sunday afternoon and beginning work on Monday, if that's acceptable with you."

"Of course, thank you Mr. Ricardo, I look forward to working with you."

"And I you."

* * *

Mycroft sat from his bedroom window looking out to their backyard. The snow had begun to melt and the dead brown grass was starting to show. The Holmes gardens, which were usual blooming with rare and beautiful flowers, were dull and stuck out like a sore thumb. The once green, lively trees were now leafless and boney and sickly. But all of these thing escaped Mycroft's notice. For standing in the middle of all this was a young girl in a bright pink gown and a white white-furred shawl.

Elisabeth stood in the Holmes' backyard helping Mr. Anderson exercise the horses by walking with them. She held a painted-horse with brown and white spots by it's reigns as they walked in a circle around the fenced-in area. Her brown hair was hanging down over shoulders warming her ears and neck.

Mycroft lifted his tumbler to his lips and took a small sip from it. His eyes looking down upon the girl, but his mind focusing on the voice speaking from behind him.

"My employer sees great potential in you Mycroft. He's willing to sponsor you through University; pay for your classes, books, dorm, etc. You'll be allowed to visit your family over the holidays or do as wish. He'll also make sure your working hours don't conflict with your schooling hours. He only requests that you working as an apprentice 3 days out of the week and during your summer break. Winter and Fall break you'll have to do as you wish."

It was the chance of a lifetime; he'd worked side-by-side with the man he'd someday replace, while continuing University and still come home to visit mummy for the holidays. Of course he'll have to find time to visit father, and Sherlock certainly won't like him being away so much, but they'd still see each other. This was a permanent situation, it was just during his time at University, after he graduated he'd continue his training as an apprentice but he'd be work full time. Plus he'd get to say in London, plus with the promise of his own flat (He'd pay 50% plus any expenses) after graduation, he'd be taken care of until he would take over the Officials position, and by then he's have enough money to buy multiple houses.

So why was he hesitating?


	53. Let Me Take You By the Hand

John felt himself be ripped out from his sleep as the closet door was thrown open. Of it weren't for the arms that had caught him, his head would have surly hit the hardwood floor. He looked up to see the pair of arms belonged to his Grandma, who was smiling down at him as she pulled him up to his feet.

"There we go dear, careful now, you've had a long night I'm sure."

Once John was back on his feet he rubbed his eyes and squinted, his eyes having not yet adjusted to the light after being in the dark for so long. It was then he realized that there was yelling coming from downstairs.

"It was just a stupid joke! The little brat was hogging the bathroom!"

"I don't care Harriet! That's no reason to lock him in a closet! What if there was fire? How would he get out? Grandma and I would have no idea where he'd be and there's no grantee that you'd get to him in time. Anything could have happen Harriet-"

"I told you, Don't call me Harriet! It's Harry!"

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me young lady! From this point on you're grounded. You are not to leave the house for the rest of the trip."

"You can't tell me what to do! You're not my mum!"

It was at this point that Grandma took John by the hand and led him away from the closet. "Why don't we get you change and then get some breakfast, hm? There's this really good beagle place down the road that I've been meaning to try."

* * *

Aithley placed a chaste kiss on her husband's cheek as she straightened his tie. It had been a long week for both of them, and next week would be even longer. Although technically Aithely was working from home, she was traveling more often than not. She had been trying to spend as much time with her family, but somebody always called, or some design needed to be approved, there was always something.

Aithley still remembered the last time she took Sherlock to school. It had been the week before Mycroft would return, Sherlock had been grumpy the entire morning (probably because he had been awake most of the night trying out his violin) but his spirits had brighten while he got ready for school.

Sherlock was practically bouncing in his seat all the way there, and when his mother questioned him he said that he and John were planning on look for earth worms during recess. John had; apparently, agree to help Sherlock catch some earth worms as long as he got to bring some home to scare Harry with.

John Watson, the boy had changed Sherlock in so many ways.

"I got a surprise for you my dear." Esteban said as he drew his wife out of her mind.

"Oh? Not another necklace I hope, I'm still over the moon about that ruby pendent necklace you gave me last week."

"Oh no, my dear." He said as he took her by the hand and led her to their bed. "I got us tickets for a two-week cruise to the Caribbean Islands."

Aithley's face was picture of pure shock. "Oh Este, what about all the work around here? We've still got to go through the paperwork for the new staff, interviews, and-"

"Do not fret; I've hired a house keeper, a woman named Mrs. Sanders. She's had plenty of experience hiring staff and said she take care of everything. She'll do all the interviews and paperwork, but will make sure to show us the people she's looking to hiring before employing them. I've taken some time off, and for the next few weeks Mrs. Sanders will only be beginning to do interviews and seeing to that the Manor is ready for the new employees. I've check your schedule, all your meets can be easily pushed back a week or two."

Aithley couldn't help but blush, Esteban had done so much to make sure they had time together, how could she say no? So with a girlish giggle she nodded her head threw her arms around Esteban's neck and placed a deep, passion filled kiss square on his lips.

* * *

_"Hello, Electric London? Yes, I'm a previous client from Hensworths Electric Co. I'm looking for a new supplier, you were recommended by our previous supplier."_

_..._

_"Yes, the name is Esteban Ricardo, but could you please put us down as 'Holmes', H-O-L-M-E-S."_

_..._

_"We live out in Kensington at Holmes Manor."_

_..._

_"Oh, you'd send one of your employees? Yes thank you, but could you send them sometime this week, I'm going away next week on a trip."_

_..._

_"Yes thank you, could I have the name of the man you're sending so we know who to expect?"_

_..._

_"Thank you, you've been most help. I'll make I'm home on Thursday when Mr. Watson arrives,_ goodbye."


	54. You Gotta When to Hold'em

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who got her very own laptop! Which means I can hopefully start posting more! I will try to post a chapter at least once a week (try!) but don't expect anything too soon because I wanna finish up my Sherlock Christmas Carol story, then I wanna import all my stories from FanFiction.net to here. While I will still be posting on FanFiction.net I want this to be my main account. So if any of you are subscribed to my account expect a of new stories to be posted soon!
> 
> BTW, if you notice any mistakes it's because these recent chapter aren't beta'd. With these works being imported from FanFiction.net I'm proofread some of them while others I haven't the time to. But I'm hoping with my new laptop that'll have more time to actually go through my work.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

It wasn't fair; it was only a stupid prank, why couldn't anyone take a joke? Harry had _meant_ to let John out after a few minutes, but sleep had over taken her. When she had awoken the next morning with the sun in her face and her mother yelling in her ear, she knew she was in deep trouble. After about a half an hour of yelling back and forth between Penelope and herself, Harry had been grounded for the rest of the vacation and would be doing the chores for two weeks once they returned home. After breakfast, Grandma and Penelope took out to some popular ice-skating rink. Meanwhile Harry was stuck at home babysitting Grandma's crotchety old cat Twinkle.

It was torture, because of a storm the previous night the cable was out, Grandma's phone had a bad wire that wouldn't be fixed till next week _,_ and on top of that, Twinkle seemed to want Harry's undivided attention. Whenever it was hungry it let out an annoyingly deep 'Meow' that would echo throughout the house. If you sat on its 'spot' it would hiss at you, and if you didn't heed its warning (which Harry learned to) it would climb up behind you and attack your hair.

Harry was close to throwing Twinkle in the shower when there came a knock from the front door. Both Harry and Twinkle turned their heads towards the door and stalked quietly towards the front door. Looking through the peep-hole, Harry saw a young boy a few years older than her on the other side.

Harry slowly opened the door sizing up the young man n front of her. He wasn't bad looking, very average with his light brown hair unkempt with wild curls. He was about a half-foot taller than her but looked lengthier because of his thin arms and legs. He wore a faded newsboy hat that was almost too big for him.

" 'ello Miss, is Mrs. Mills 'ome?" The British accent took Harry by surprise. after hearing so many American accents, it was refreshing to hear something familiar.

"Umm, no, she's out at the moment." It took Harry only a moment to regain her senses and realize it probably wasn't a good idea to tell a stranger who was or wasn't at home. "But she'll be back any second; she said she was only stepping out for a moment."

"Oh, well could ya give this?" the boy said handing Harry a small box wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. "Tell 'er it's from Bryan, it the stuff she wanted from my Gran."

"Bryan? Okay...I'll tell when she gets back. Does your Grand know Wendy?" Saying her Grandma's first name was like speaking a foreign language to Harry. It felt wrong on her tongue, and forced.

"Yeah, we, me and Gran that is, live two houses over. Mrs. Mills comes over for the weekly bridge game. Are you related to Mrs. Mills?"

"I'm her granddaughter; our family is visiting from England. Sorry for prying, but your accent, are from around here?"

"Yup, I was born a American, but me dad was from. 'E moved 'ere a few 'ears before I was born."

Harry only nodded in response, with nothing else of interest to her, she was ready about to shut the door and bid the boy goodbye when Bryan stopped her. "H-how long is your family visiting? Cause if you're doing nothing maybe you could come over sometime?"

"Ummm, sure, maybe, my mum and brother are out right now with my grandma so-"

"Are you doing anything? 'Cause if you're wanted maybe we could go doing something. Me and couple of my friends are gett'n together tonight, do you wanna come with?"

Harry had to think for a moment, her mum had said they would be back later in the evening. John's bedtime was seven and mum usually went to bed an hour before Grandma, who went to bed sometime after eleven. Harry was positive once her mother returned she would be sent to the bedroom and would only be allowed out for dinner than sent back to bed. John, much to his fortune, was allowed to sleep on the couch for the remainder of the trip, which meant staying up late watching the telly. If Harry played her cards right, she might be able to sneak out without anyone noticing.

"What time?"

"I can come get ya at eight."

"How about I met you, where do you live?"

"Two blocks down past McGee's, you know where that is?"

"Yup, see you when!"

 

* * *


	55. Bunnies, babies, and cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry guys. I'd like to apologize for unannounced hiatus, but my life has made a complete turn around. I'm not even sure if things have settled yet. This past year (school year more accurately) has been an experience of a lifetime. This was my first and last year in a public school, and this chapter of my life is closing with a bittersweet ending. I've learned so much, I've become inspired, given renewed hope, and it feels like my future has suddenly brightened. While coming back on feels like visiting an old home, but nothing has been forgotten! I think of this as renovating it into something new.! If I get that far, which I do unless I die, get married or become incapacitated (none of which I am planning to do soon), I will continue this fic as previously planned.
> 
> I should let you guys know now my plans for the future. As I am graduating High School, I plan to take a semester off, get a job and driver license (I currently have a permit). After that I plan to attend a community college for two years before transferring to a University.
> 
> This means hopefully I won't have the pressures of High School and more free time to update!  
> Thank you all my faithful readers and Welcome to the new ones! Enjoy!

Harry ran into her bed as she heard her mother's footsteps coming up the stairs; to check on her no doubt. She pulled the blankets up to her neck so that it would cover the fact that she was dressed up. She closed her eyes and evened out her breathes, careful not to hold it.

She held back a gasp as her mother opened the door just a crack; enough to poke her head around and see her stepdaughters form under the covers. Satisfied, Penelope pulled back and shut the door. Harry waited until she could no longer hear her stepmother's footsteps, then till she heard the stairs creek one loud, final time.

Sitting up as quiet as possible, she began her work. Dressing before hand, Harry only was left with putting on her flats. Using the extra pillows, she squished them and placed them under the cover, making them into an almost human looking form. She felt around as she walked across the room in the dark; not risking turning the light on. Once she finally the window, at the pace of a snail, she slowly opened the window. Once it was opened enough, she slip herself out and onto a metal awning. She made sure to leave the window unlocked as she shut it, and carefully slip herself to the ground.

* * *

Harry waited outside of the Bryan's house. It was only a few minutes past eight and Harry was beginning to worry that he won't show up and she would have to return home. Soon enough, Bryan and two others came out from his house. On either side of Bryan was a boy and girl, one older and the other younger.

" 'ello 'arry! I'd like ya to meet Macy and her brother Jake."

Macy had jet black hair pulled behind her in a messy bun. Her brown eyes her heavy with too much make-up. She wore a red tank top that with a black leather vest. A tight matching leather skirt went only down to her thighs; underneath she wore fight-net stockings. On her feet were black high heels with red strips going down the heel.

Jake was her exact opposite. He wore white pants that went all the way up to his stomach with a orange shirt that was splashed with multiple colors tucked under his pants. His hair was like his sisters, being a dark black, but he wore his long and down, going all the way past his shoulders and almost to his waist. His eyes Harry couldn't tell the color, for they were covered by pair of large sunglasses.

Harry had to bite her tongue as a laugh nearly escaped her. She had heard about these sort of outfits, a couple of kids at her school had dressed...like that...but not so extreme. Honestly, those sunglasses could be reflectors.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Harry."

"Hey bunny, I'm Macy, don't mind Jake, he's a real airhead, if you ya catch my drift."

"Ummm, yeah sure. You guys ready to go?" Harry said with a nervous smile. Harry really needed to get out more if this was how everyone was talking now. Harry remembers the first time she heard Clara said 'groovy', she nearly sneezed out her milkshake from her nose.

Bryan nodded his head back and turned to lead them down the street. It seemed the busy streets calmed down after dark. Harry wondered if this was because everyone was at home with something better to do or because they weren't safe. With these thoughts a small glimpse of regret made its way into her head. But after quickly reassuring herself, she followed the gang down the road.

"Jake, you know where this 'ouse is?" Bryan said as he lead the group.

"Don't you know?" Harry asked with a hint of worry in her voice.

"Nah...Well kind of. Ya see, the place changes after party, I know the street, just not the house. Jake here knows the guys who plan'em."

"See Bunny, I and the cats are tight. So chill, we's going to Fab-City tonight!"

* * *

"Jake, baby! I see you found the crib! What'ya thinks of her?"

A blonde haired girl in a short blue flora dress came running up and threw her arms around Jake's neck. Her hair was piled high above her head with only hairspray and a matching blue headband. She had on knee-high fuzzy white boots and silk-like blue sleeves on her forearms.

"Groovy, doll, just groovy! What's the skinny on it? There's no way you guys could catch this place without a price!" Jake said as he put an arm around the girl's waist.

"Oh not much, ya see, Danny's dad sells houses. You won't believe how cheap this place was!"

"Dream on!" Macy exclaimed, eyes bulging out.

"Psyche! Danny's dad  _does_ sell houses; this was just one of the places that recently got listed. The owners just got into their new place, but haven't moved their stuff yet." The blonde said with a smug filled smile.

"That's sick, man!" Jake said giving the blonde a kiss on the cheek. "Harry, I'd like to meet Ginny, she's my gal and a real cool cat!" Ginny regarded Harry with a simple nod in her direction as she clung onto Jake's arm. Harry gave the girl a small smile, "Well, we gonna go inside or what?" she said impatiently. Seeing her brother reoccupied, Macy stuck to harry's side while taking Bryan's arm dragging him with them.


	56. The Beginning of the End

Harry Watson was a good girl.

Sure, she sometimes took teasing her younger brother to new extremes, and yes, she did sneak out of the house to attend a party. But there were places where Harry Watson had to draw a line. Such as drinking and drugs for example. Drugs had never really had an appeal to her; after all, how sad you're life must be for you to only enjoy it when you're not sober. Sure, for a moment everything was right in the world, but when it crashed, when you returned from your 'trip' it only made things worse. Drinking was never a big deal to Harry, to her, there were some gray areas. She knew a few friends who had given her some...advice. Such as 'know your limit', 'if you plan to get wasted, bring a friend', 'never ever kiss someone who wouldn't normally want to'. The idea of getting honestly confused Harry, why would you want to waste yourself? What was the point?

But all these things flew out the window as Bryan handed Harry a drink and scooted up next to her. "What 'a think? Wild party, huh?"

Perhaps it was the drink in her hand, or that she just truly realized what she was doing. But with a sudden boost of confidence, Harry took a sip of her drink and gave a flirtatious smirk. "Oh yeah, it's wild alright! It's out of this world!" Bryan laughed, glad to see his friend enjoying herself. "Hell yeah it is! I can't believe you're from out of town, you seem to fit right in!" Even with all her confidence, Harry couldn't help but blush. "Aw, you're just being sweet!"

"Course I am! My mom raised me to treat a lady right and give her a good time."

"Well, I'm definitely having a good time..." As Harry's words trailed off, she realized how close her and Bryan where. The place was overcrowded and packed tight; their voices were drowned out by the thumping of the music and the cheers of the other partygoers. Harry closed her eyes, and Bryan took this as a sign to close the distance between them and seal their lips together.

As far as kissing goes, Harry had little experience. But it was quite obvious that kissing was one area Bryan was not lacking knowledge in. He quickly took the lead and slides his fingers into her hair as his tongue peeked out of his mouth and gently nudged Harry's lips. Harry, unsure of what to do with her hands, slide them up Bryan's chest and stopped, resting them on his shoulders. She opened her mouth and their tongues met.

Kissing wasn't anything like Harry had expected it to be. There were no fireworks or explosions going through her head, but rather a hundred million thoughts were spinning around in her head. How Bryan's mouth tasted, the feel of their tongues touching, and over worrying about what she should be doing with her hands. During all this, she was too preoccupied to notice Bryan's hands roaming downwards stopping only to grip her by her waist and pull her closer to him. Harry felt his hands slip under her shirt. The feeling of her warm hands caressing her bare skin made Harry feel as if she were blushing from head to toe. An intense heat spiked through her body as she gripped harder onto his shoulders and hoisted herself onto his lap.

But still something felt off, something not unpleasant, but missing. Harry deepened the kiss, as if trying to find what she felt she was missing. Suddenly, Bryan broke the kiss, they both were panting, trying to gasp for much needed air. "Come here, I wanna show you something..." As he said this, Bryan stood up and put his hand out for Harry to take.

Now, Harry wasn't a stupid girl, she knew exactly where Bryan was taking her. The next morning, Harry would blame it on the alcohol, or perhaps it was because she felt like she was missing something, and made it her mission to find it.

So with a nod, she took his hand and let him lead her away from the crowds and up the stairs. As Bryan led her down the hallway Harry noticed that her drink was in her hand. This fact seemed entirely insignificant, yet for some reason was very important. She quickly drank the rest of her drink while completely giving Bryan control. They finally stopped in front of an unmarked door, that once opened revealed a large king size bed. The empty cup fell from Harry's limp hand. Deciding that it was too late to turn back, Harry let Bryan shut the door behind her as she felt his other hand it's way under her shirt and begin tugging.

* * *

It wasn't anything like she expected.

It was morning, the exact time Harry was unsure. Most of the night had been a blur, Bryan had fallen asleep in bed and Harry had sneaked downstairs and was soon handed another drink. She barely remembers someone asking her where she had been, but she couldn't remember who. But she could very clearly the soft pair of lips that were attached to said person. It was the sudden shouts and sirens that had brought Harry out of the blur of the night. She had felt someone grasp her hand and lead her away from the party and soon the house. The next thing she remembers was someone asking her if she knew her way home. It was a miracle no one heard her climbing her way in, it was a miracle she could even get back in.

Bryan had been gentle, from what she could remember anyways. It wasn't unpleasant, but there was something about the whole experience that seemed wrong. Like trying to force to puzzle pieces together that didn't fit. Harry wondered if that was how it was suppose to be. Or maybe she did something wrong, or perhaps it was because she was drunk. Harry had the dignity to admit to herself that yes, she had been very drunk. The hangover she had was solid proof.

Harry never saw Bryan again, not that she cared. The only other time she heard from him was when her Grandmother was telling her mother about him one morning during breakfast.

"He's a very nice boy who lives not far from here. It's a pity he hasn't got himself a young lady, he's a real gentleman, never heard a bad word about or from him."

* * *

Harry was relieved once her mother announced that they would be leaving that afternoon due to an emergency back home. She couldn't take it anymore, John was completely ignoring her, Penelope keep giving her disappointed and tiring looks and her Grandmother keep throwing her knowing looks, as if she could see through her knew all she had done. All this put her on edge, even the smallest things made her irritated and snappy. It made her feel even worse when she had yelled at John and Penelope did nothing but shoo John away and give Harry a not quite annoyed, but more of a tired look.

They each gave their Grandmother a hug and a kiss good-bye. They waved at her until they couldn't see her anymore. Once out of view, Harry slouched in her seat and stared out her window. For a brief moment, she thought she saw Bryan. She didn't dislike him, he hadn't forced himself on her, and it was her own choice. But she wished, for moment, if she could ask him how he felt about her. If he had intended it to be a one night stand, or if he did feel anything for her. But then she realized that she would probably never see him again, it was probably for the best they didn't speak again.

But Harry would have trade all the awkward conversations, knowing glances and disappointment for the hell that awaited her back home.


End file.
